


Corporate Ladders

by Xenobia



Series: Flowers of the Soul [2]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bondage, Drama, Humor, M/M, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 19:16:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 61,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2121567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenobia/pseuds/Xenobia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronald Knox is one of the newest junior officers in Dispatch. He has great potential, but tends to get distracted a lot. Unaware of the secret he's keeping from him, he seeks guidance from his friend Eric and his partner Alan, determined to become a brilliant reaper and climb his way to the top. His biggest challenges yet await him, though; not the least of which is the crush he's harboring on his department's supervisor, William T. Spears. Takes place after "The Language of Flowers". Part 2 of the "Flowers of the Soul" series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TiBun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiBun/gifts).



"Corporate Ladders"

_A William/Ronald fanfiction_

Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler) and all characters therein belong to Yana Toboso.  I make no profit from the writing of this fanfiction, and it is strictly for entertainment purposes only._ **

* * *

 

"Bloody hell…I’m late again!"

Ronald hopped as he pulled his pants up, his slightly panicked gaze fixated on his alarm clock. He swore he’d set it the night before, but it didn’t go off. The only reason he’d woken up at all was because of the phone call he’d gotten from Eric Slingby. He didn’t get to the phone in time, but the Scotsman’s voice came through loud and clear on the voice message recording.

_"Just givin’ a reminder tha’ you’ve go’ tae be at work in twenty minutes, lad. See yeh at tha rat race."_

Well, thank gods for Slingby. Ronald couldn’t say just how or when it had happened, but the two of them had become fast friends as he moved up in the ranks. Eric watched his back both on the clock and off it, and for that, Ron was grateful. He didn’t even hide his accent around him anymore.

"Shoes…shoes…shoes…" Ronald’s two-toned head whipped around as he searched his cluttered studio apartment for the nice, Italian shoes he’d just bought himself to compliment his uniform. He sighed in relief when he saw one of them peeking out from under his couch. "There y’ are!"

He squatted down to dig them out, and he raced to his chest of drawers to procure a pair of socks. “I’d have been upset if I lost these,” he muttered. It took three months of saving up for him to be able to afford them, and he’d barely been able to make rent after getting them. His mentor would have argued that he should put better furnishings and bills before fashion, if Grell weren’t such a fashion freak himself. Humphries merely shook his head and smiled when Ron came into work showing them off.

Knox lived a bit like a slob, but he dressed in style. His work ensemble alone was worth more than all his furniture combined. Next on his agenda was a sexy car or a motorcycle…but that would have to wait until his funds built back up or he got a raise. The custom scythe he’d had designed was his first big investment, once he made it to junior officer status. The wardrobe naturally came next. Meanwhile, he slept on a couch with a hide-a-bed that he never bothered to pull out, and he ate off chipped plates and drank from plastic glasses. His tiny apartment was cluttered for certain, but he _did_ wash dishes each night and clean house once per week.

"Right," he sighed after slipping his pricey suit on and getting his tie sorted out. He snatched his designer watch off the top of the dresser and put it on his wrist, before styling his hair and splashing on a little cologne. Five minutes. He had to be at the office in _five bloody minutes_ , and it was all the way across town!

"Man, I am _so_ in for it,” he groaned as he raced for the door and grabbed his keys off the hook beside it. He’d never make it in time, even if he didn’t need to rely on public transport.

* * *

 

He tried to sneak in without being seen by the boss, but William T. Spears was standing in the lobby, talking to one of the board members. Ronald winced and ducked behind a rubber tree plant, biting his lip.

"How the hell am I s’posed t’ clock in with him standing _right there_?” he whined. It was bad enough that he couldn’t be around the man on a regular day without his blush factor kicking in. When Spears went into lecture mode, it did funny, inappropriate things to him. Sometimes Ronald was tempted to screw up just to get some Spears discipline.

A hand settled on his shoulder and he yelped, turning around to find Eric standing there.

"You gave me a fright," accused Ronald.

"Ye’ll get more than a ‘fright’ if tha boss catches ya comin’ in late again, Knoxie," observed Eric. "Come on; I’ve already clocked ya in. Far as anyone’s concerned you’ve been wi’ me since tha work day started."

Ronald sighed in relief and went with him to the elevators. “Thanks, Eric. I really owe y’ one.”

The Scotsman chuckled and pressed the button for their floor. “Jus’ be more careful, kid. I cannae always come tae yer rescue. I think ya ought tae invest in a better alarm clock.”

Ronald scratched the back of his head, where the sunny blond hair turned to black at the nape of his neck. “Yeah, I thought of that too while I was runnin’ around my place like a chicken with it’s head cut off, this morning. I _know_ I set the damned thing before bed last night, but it never went off!”

"Then maybe we should carpool ‘till ya get a more reliable one," suggested Eric. "I’ll drag your arse outta bed every morning, if I’ve go’ tae."

"Heh…I’d appreciate it." Ronald leaned back against the wall of the elevator. "So what are y’ doing this weekend? There’s a new club opening up on Saturday. I know you’re not on the market for dates, but I could stand t’ add a few numbers to my book."

"Sorry Ronnie; Alan and I have plans already. Been a while since we’ve actually been on a real date t’gether, so I’m takin’ him out fer dinner an’ a movie."

"Oh." Ronald shrugged. He wished he had the courage to be as open with his preferences as the two of them were. Not that Shinigami typically judged same sex couples, but he’d spent a lot of his youth in the mortal realm, where such relationships were taboo.

_~And even if I hopped out of th’ closet, I’d still never have the balls t’ ask out the person I really want.~_

He’d had his secret trysts with other guys closer to his age, of course, but that’s all they were…trysts. All the girls he dated thought he was just a gentleman, but the truth was he had no intention of sleeping with any of them and he just enjoyed their company.

"Ronnie, are ya still in there?" Eric waved a hand over the younger reaper’s eyes, smirking at him. "Where do ya go in yer head, when ya start tha’ daydreamin’?"

Ronald shrugged and stuck his hands into his pockets. “Just thinkin’ of my next date, most of the time.”

_~Or fantasizing about a date I’ll never get. Damn it.~_

Eric sighed. “Ya need tae focus more when yer in tha office. Far as reapin’ goes, yer one o’ tha best in yer generation…but when ya keep starin’ off in tae space in tha office, it doesnae leave a good impression tae yer seniors.”

"Yeah, I know," sighed the boy. "I’ll try t’ pay more attention."

* * *

 

His actions belied his words a mere two hours later. Bored and waiting on his next reaping assignments, Ronald started playing with paperclips. He ended up fashioning a slingshot of one of them, rigging it with a rubber band. He was in Grell’s office, waiting for the redhead to finish up in a meeting so that they could pick up a death list and get moving. With his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, Ronald took aim at the door with the makeshift slingshot he’d fashioned.

"They never see me coming," he muttered cockily. "Death strikes with th’ force of—"

The door opened just as he loosed the paperclip projectile he’d loaded into the slingshot, and to Ronald’s eternal horror, William T. Spears got pegged right in the face with it.

"Oh, shit! S-Spears-senpai!" He straightened up in the desk chair, going white as a sheet as the Dispatch supervisor jerked and put a gloved hand to his stinging cheek. "I totally didn’t mean t’ get ya! Aw man…I’m soooo sorry!"

William raised an elegant brow at him. “I can see your paychecks are money well-spent. I am sure the board will be pleased to know that one of our most recently promoted young reapers spends his time in the office rigging paper-clip booby traps.”

Ronald winced and dropped the slingshot he’d made. “I was just…uh…waiting on my mentor, sir. I’ve finished all th’ paperwork I had this morning.”

William carried a stack of documents over to the desk. “On the contrary, there is a bit more.”

He dropped the stack onto the polished surface. “Clearly, we do not keep you busy enough, Mister Knox.”

Ronald gulped. “Am I getting overtime?”

William glanced out the window. “That would depend on you, and the speed and efficiency in which you complete your additional paperwork. Perhaps you should get started on that now, rather than shooting office supplies across the room.”

That piercing gaze met his again, causing Ronald’s heart to thud so strongly he feared William might be able to hear it banging against his ribcage. For a long moment, William merely stared at him; and then he gave a cordial nod. “Good day, Mister Knox.”

Ronald swallowed again. “Good day, sir.”

He didn’t breathe again until William had left the room. Even after getting reprimanded, he’d been unable to stop himself from admiring the boss’s retreating backside. Spears had a very nice bum. Ronald groaned once he was alone in the office room again, and he face-planted on the new pile of paperwork.

"Well, _that’s_ a great way t’ show the boss your worth…shoot him in the face with a paperclip.”

At least he hadn’t blurted out that he’d bend over for a spanking, if William wanted him to.

He got started on the paperwork, blushing at the direction of his own thoughts. Moments later, Grell came twirling in with the usual flair and a shark-like grin. “Good morning, darling,” greeted the crimson reaper. He stopped and sighed, planting his hands on his hips. “Just _what_ are you doing at my desk, Ronnie? I have told you time after time to do your paperwork at your own desk!” He jabbed a finger in the direction of the smaller desk in the corner of the room.

"Chair’s broken," excused Ronald with a shrug, "and you weren’t in here, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to sit at your desk ‘till ya got here."

He obligingly scooped up the paperwork and got out of Grell’s chair, carrying it all over to his desk. He sat down gingerly on the unstable chair, careful not to lean back and end up on the floor again like yesterday.

"They were supposed to replace that chair today," sighed Grell. He sat down at his desk and he picked up his phone to call maintenance. "Honestly, nothing ever gets done around here when it should. Yes, hello? This is Officer Sutcliff. I’ve a broken chair in my office that you were supposed to have replaced by today. Yes, that’s correct. Well, good! You’d better, because I cannot afford to have a partner with a concussion!"

He hung up and smiled. “Well then, that should take care of that! Leave off the paperwork for now, Mustard Seed. We have souls to reap.” He produced his book of death list names and waved it meaningfully at the blond.

"Gladly," agreed Ronald with a smirk. Reaping was more of an art than a job to him, and it was his favorite part of the work day. Pity he couldn’t get away with doing nothing but reaping.

* * *

 

"Just look at this _mess_ ,” exclaimed Grell, waving a hand un-necessarily at the gory splatters painting the walls and floors of the house interior. “My goodness, someone had themselves a good time.”

Ronald grimaced as he approached the dead female, lying in a pool of her own drying blood. Her hair was so saturated with it that he couldn’t tell what color it was. She was an attractive sort, with high cheekbones and blue eyes. “Looks like they took something from her,” he observed as he squatted down to have a better look.

"Well, of course the killer would have no compunctions about stealing her coin purse." Grell waved a hand dismissively.

"No, I’m not talking about a coin purse or jewelry," explained Ronald. He looked up at his mentor. "I mean a body part. They cut something out o’ her, Senpai."

"Hmm." Grell walked over to the body and looked down at it, adjusting his red-framed glasses. There was a gaping slice in her lower abdomen, where part of her dress had been cut away. "How very odd. The list didn’t say anything about cannibalism."

Ronald shook his head and summoned his scythe. “Maybe they didn’t cut it out t’ eat it. I dunno enough about biology t’ tell what bits they took. Her stomach?” He shrugged. Just as he was about to make the first cut to begin collecting her records, a huge cockroach came crawling out of the wound and he fell back with a startled curse.

"Aw, gross!"

Grell sighed. “Her innards have been scooped out, and you’re troubled by a bug? Really, darling, you simply _must_ grow a thicker skin. And it wasn’t her stomach, Knoxie. I believe it was her womb that they stole.”

Having turned a bit pasty, Ronald gulped and tried again. “Just startled me, is all. You weren’t right here hovering over it!” He got to his feet and started up his mower. Her reels showed the final moments of her life, but the killer’s shadowed form was too blurred to identify. As Grell watched, Ronald collected all of the reels and made a note in his own report book.

"I don’t think a prostitute has anything special t’ give humanity."

Grell smirked. “Not likely, no. I do find the manner of her death quite…interesting, though. I wonder why someone would take her womb?”

"Maybe she was pregnant," suggested Ronald, "and whoever offed her didn’t want her havin’ the baby."

"Mm, could be." Grell brushed it off. "Well, we have several more assignments to take care of today, and plenty of paperwork to handle as well. Let’s move on, shall we?"

* * *

 

After collecting the records of eight more targets, the two of them returned to their realm to hand in their records. Grell was still going on about the murder victim they’d started out with, and Ronald was doing his best to try and forget the disgusting bug incident.

"Whomever the killer is, he must surely be depraved," Grell was saying as they walked back out of the library and began the trek back to Headquarters. "Can you imagine what sort of twisted mind it must take to steal a victim’s organs? And such a _personal_ organ, too!”

"Yeah, it’s sick," agreed Ronald. "Can we stop talking about it now?"

"I just find it fascinating," Grell went on as if he hadn’t spoken. "The depths that some mortals will sink! So much blood. You know, blood is really quite lovely. So very red."

Ronald stared at the older reaper. “You’re starting t’ freak me out a little, Senpai.”

Grell shrugged. “We are gods of death, Ronnie. If we can’t find some beauty in it, however will we manage to keep bringing it to them? Reapers go mad if they cannot separate their emotions from the job.”

"Yeah, but ya don’t have t’ get turned on by it," protested the blond.

"Now you’re just being silly," admonished Grell. "I’m not…oh, look! There’s Will! Wiiilliam, darling!"

Grell called out to the handsome, raven-haired man and he hurried across the street to him. He seemed to be on his way to the library from headquarters.

Ronald nearly laughed at the trapped expression that flitted over Spears’ face briefly, before he could contain it. The man looked around as if seeking somewhere to hide, before heaving a visible sigh of defeat. He held Sutcliff at arm’s length as the redhead tried to embrace him. The blond waited for traffic to clear before jogging across the street to join them.

"Hi boss," he greeted William, giving him the "death" salute. "Nine mortals, tagged ‘n bagged. Not bad, huh?"

"Sutcliff, do contain yourself," snapped William. He pushed Grell away and straightened up his suit. "And yes, nine collections is rather impressive in such a short time, Knox. It almost makes up for your poor office behavior."

Ronald bit his lip, his bluster stolen by the criticism. “I’ll try t’ do better, sir.”

Those eyes pinned him again, sliding over him in a way that made Ronald want to squirm. He could practically feel the phantom touch of that stare. William’s lips twitched in an expression that might have almost passed for a fleeting smile. “See to it that you do, Ronald Knox. Now if you’ll both pardon me, I have records of my own to hand in.”

"You went reaping?" Ronald’s brows shot up with surprise. William rarely set foot outside his office, spending most of his time managing Dispatch and filing reports.

"We have been rather overbooked, of late," explained the brunet, "and despite the addition of new reapers into our ranks, there has been a rise in the death counts this month. It is sometimes necessary for me to lend my own scythe to managing collections."

He sighed and pushed his glasses further up with the tip of said scythe. “I would delight in having a day off, but it seems that will have to wait.”

"You could still take a day off, Willy," suggested Grell, batting his eyelashes at him. "Perhaps a romantic evening out with a certain lady who adores you, hmm?"

An ugly feeling of jealousy twisted Ronald’s stomach as William gazed at Grell as if almost considering it. Sutcliff was determined to eventually wear him down and win his affections, and given their history together, Ronald braced himself for that to happen eventually. Who was he to compete with a senior officer…one who had known William since his first days at the academy? Sure, he was charming and good looking, but he was so far beneath Spears that he might as well be an ant.

"I’m afraid I have neither the time nor the inclination for a ‘romantic evening out’," William finally informed the amorous redhead, "least of all not with a ‘lady’ who cannot take ‘no’ for an answer."

Grell pouted. “You are so cold, my darling.”

"I’m not your ‘darling’," reminded William, "and if you detain me a single moment longer, I shall bury you in so much paperwork you will never again see the light of day. Now, I must be going."

He glanced at Ronald once more, before excusing himself from their presence for the final time. Grell stared after him with a sigh, his heart in his eyes. “Why must he deny our love?”

"Maybe ‘cause he doesn’t feel it like you do," suggested Ronald—more brutally than intended.

Grell gave him a shocked and offended look. “Why, you little…I’ll have you know that Will is only in denial! He resists because he fears losing his heart to my beauty!”

Ronald sighed, rolling his eyes. “Face it, Miss Sutcliff; he’s got no sex drive. I’ve never seen him go on a date…have you?”

"Well, no," admitted Grell, "but that’s simply because he’s saving himself for me. He just doesn’t know it, yet."

"Whatever." He was tired of arguing with Grell’s delusions. "Let’s just get back t’ the office, so we can finish up our paperwork and clock out on time."

* * *

 

He was getting a headache…again. In addition to the added burden of deaths on the list, Sutcliff continued to throw himself at him at every turn. Knox was in the habit of slacking whenever possible. It seemed the only reliable agents he had were Slingby and his partner Humphries, and they couldn’t be expected to take up all the slack themselves. William returned to his office after turning in his collections at the library, and he went into the small, adjoining bathroom to procure some aspirin.

After popping a couple into his mouth and rinsing it down with a glass of tap water, he walked over to his desk. It was getting late, and the sun was beginning to set. He still had filing to do. Other reapers were beginning to leave for the evening, returning home to their loved ones for dinner, or going out on the town for some personal enjoyment.

Personal enjoyment. He honestly could not recall the last time he’d indulged in such, himself. He heard Ronald Knox’s voice in the hallway outside his office, and his mind conjured up an image of the young reaper. He imagined his easy-going smile, and the way his cheeks dimpled with the expression. He thought of his voice and that oddly endearing dialect of English he used, with his odd slang and shortened words. There was something about him that got to William, and he had just begun to realize that his thoughts concerning Knox weren’t entirely professional.

"This is the last thing I need," he sighed, opening up a folder to look over the reports. Of course, the first folder he opened belonged to the very agent he found so often on his mind. The photo within the file folder showed Knox grinning and making the "death" salute with both hands. He was cheeky, a bit cocky and irrepressible—exactly the opposite of William. He was also a bit too attractive for his own good. Will couldn’t think of a single other reaper that could make such chunky glasses look good. They were practically goggles, but Knox made them work, somehow.

He stared at the photo for several moments, until there was a knock at his door that shook him out of his daze. “Enter.”

As if summoned by his own troubled thoughts, Ronald Knox poked his head in. William hastily shut the file folder and rested his hands on top of it, threading the fingers together. “What is it, Mister Knox?”

"Uh, I was just droppin’ by t’ see if ya need anything before I clock out, boss. I figure I owe ya that much, since I accidentally pegged ya with the paperclip t’day."

"The word is ‘today’," corrected William—even though he’d come to think of Ronald’s way of speaking strangely attractive, "and no, thank you. I’m afraid I shall be here for some time."

Ronald stepped into the office almost shyly, and he lowered his gaze. “I could…ya know…help with some of it. Instead of staying here all night workin’ on it, you could drop some of it off at my desk and I can do it t’morrow.”

William’s brow slowly rose. “Are you actually volunteering to do additional paperwork, Mister Knox?” He smirked slightly in spite of himself. “You, who has difficulty staying awake while doing such ‘boring’ work?”

Ronald shrugged and smiled sheepishly at him, sticking his hands into his pockets. “Well, yeah. I still feel bad about the paperclip thing, and I know ya’ve been real busy. I don’t mind takin’ on a little more if it’ll give ya a little more free time, sir.”

Will didn’t quite know how to respond to that. He’d had agents suck up to him before, offering to take on additional work for the soul purpose of getting on his good side in the hopes of a promotion. None of them had ever made such an offer for altruistic reasons, however. Ronald seemed genuinely interested in lightening the burden on him, and that was a strange thing, indeed.

"That is very…considerate of you," said William carefully, still surprised. "I may take you up on that offer, Knox. For now, go ahead and clock out, and enjoy the rest of your evening."

Ronald nodded. “Okay. G’night, sir.”

William smirked in bemusement as the young man left his office. Knox was blushing. How interesting. In fact, the boy seemed to blush quite a lot around him. William found that peculiar, considering how easily Ronald flirted with the ladies downstairs. Was he really so intimidating to him, or could it be something else?

Shaking his head to banish such speculation, William returned his attention to the files and he sorted out which ones he would work on tonight, and which ones he would leave on Knox’s desk for processing in the morning.

* * *

 

"What the hell’s _wrong_ with me,” groaned Ronald to himself as he got into the elevator. “Paperwork? _Really_?”

He’d initially gone to William’s office to ask if he’d be interested in going out for a bit with him, Eric and Alan. The three of them decided they’d hit the pub after work for a drink, and they thought it would be nice to extend and invitation to the boss, seeing as he’d just been saying earlier that day that he never got any time off. He chickened out, though, and the only thing he could think of as an excuse for dropping in was to offer to help with the paperwork.

"Well, at least he seemed kinda grateful," he sighed. Or else he was just humoring him. He hoped he wasn’t getting in over his head by offering to take on some of Spears’ workload. "I’ll just have t’ be extra careful when I’m doing it, and not screw up."

It would be just his luck to make a mistake or do a sloppy job and make his boss clean up behind him. The point was to lessen William’s work load, not add to it.

His cell phone began to ring, and he dug it out of his pocket to answer it. “Knox, here. Oh, hey Alan-senpai. I’m on my way down t’ the lobby now. No, I didn’t. I was gonna, but he looked really busy and I didn’t think he’d go for it. Uh-huh. Well, I ended up volunteering t’ do some of his paperwork, instead. Yeah, I know…I think I can handle it, though. It’s boring stuff, but it’s not all that complicated. Okay, meet ya in the parking garage, then.”

He hung up and waited for the elevator to touch down, and then he went to the parking garage to join Eric and Alan.

* * *

 

"What’re ya grinning ‘bout?" Eric questioned his lover when Alan hung up the phone.

"Ronald," answered the brunet. "The poor thing lost his nerve."

"Hmph…guess I owe ya some money, then."

Alan chuckled. They’d made a bet on whether Ron would go through with his plan to invite the boss out with them. Eric didn’t believe him when Alan predicted the outcome, because he couldn’t imagine Ronald being too shy to ask anyone out—platonically or otherwise.

"I’ll let you pay me some other way," Alan said when Eric started to dig out his wallet. "Keep the money."

Eric waggled his eyebrows at him. “Wha’ sort o’ payment did yeh have in mind?”

"You’ll just have to find that out when we get home, won’t you?" Grinning up at him, Alan put his arms around his waist and he kissed his throat. "Let’s just say it isn’t for young eyes to see."

"Yeah, I don’t want my young eyes t’ see, either," called Ronald’s voice. He approached with a grin as the couple released each other. "So what does he owe y’ money for anyhow, Alan-senpai?"

"Just a small wager," answered the small brunet smoothly. "Ready to go?"

Ron nodded. “More than. Let’s get outta here and do some drinking!”

"Now, I don’t want you two getting smashed, this time," warned Alan. "I can’t carry you both to the car and I don’t want the embarrassment of getting the bouncer to help me with you again."

"I can’t get smashed anyway," Ronald pointed out with a shrug as he opened one of the back doors on Alan’s blue sedan and ducked in. "I’ve got a lot of extra paperwork t’ do tomorrow, and that’s gonna be painful enough without a hangover."

Eric and Alan got in and buckled up. “So how’d it go from asking tha boss tae come out wi’ us tae yeh takin’ on some of his paperwork, anyhow?” questioned the Scotsman. “Doesn’t sound like ya, Ronnie.”

"I dunno what happened," sighed the younger blond. "I was all ready t’ say: _'hey boss, we're going out for drinks and we thought ya might want t' come with.'_ But then I saw all that paperwork on his desk and…I guess I just figured he’d never go for it, so then I had to come up with some other reason for stopping by.”

"I swear tha man’s gonna snap one day," predicted Eric, "an’ he’ll either scythe himself or Sutcliff when it happens."

"Eric, don’t say things like that," chastised Alan as he pulled out of the parking garage and into traffic. "He’s our boss."

"Aye, an’ he’s abou’ as uptight as they come," insisted Eric. "It’s no’ good fer anyone tae spend tha’ much time cooped up in tha office. Tha’s why I suggested Ronnie go invite him. Even if it’s only fer a little drink wi’ us now an’ then, he ought tae try and get out."

"He has a lot more responsibilities than we do." Alan stopped at a red light, and he reached over to rub Eric’s knee. "Maybe some other time."

In the back seat, Ronald sighed. Eric heard the sound, and he turned around in his seat to look back at him. “Wha’s tha long face about, kid? Startin’ tae regret offering tae do all that paperwork?”

"Yeah," agreed Ronald. "I guess I screwed myself pretty good with that."

"It was a nice gesture," said Eric with a shrug. "Cheer up. Maybe tha’ cute waitress ya like will be there tonight."

Beside him, Alan cat a sidelong look at the Scotsman. They’d been playing along with Ronald’s flirtations for two years now, leaving it up to him to decide when and if he ever came out of the closet. Eric, however, seemed just as oblivious as Grell to the way the boy behaved around Spears. Alan still hadn’t said anything, allowing them to believe Ronald’s awkward reactions around William were simply due to intimidation. It was probably better for Ronald that Grell remain ignorant, and Alan really wasn’t sure how Eric would feel about his son crushing on the boss. The Scotsman might decide to get protective of him and then he’d have a fine time trying to explain why he took such a personal interest in who Ronald fantasized about.

Alan sighed. Sometimes he thought it would just be easier if Eric would just confess to Ronald that he was his father. He’d sneakily confirmed it for his own piece of mind last year, when Ronald went in for a standard physical. He’d given samples of his own DNA on the same day, so that the doctor could secretly perform a paternity test—a thing which might not have happened, had Eric not been friends with the man. Ronnie was definitely his son. Now the question was whether or not Eric would ever tell the young man or not.

"Now what are ya sighing ‘bout?" questioned Eric. "Am I tha only one in a good mood t’night?"

Alan smirked. “It’s nothing. I’m just glad the work day is over with.”

* * *

 

They pulled up to the pub, and Eric got out to put money in the meter while Alan and Ronald went inside to get their table. “I’m sure there will be other chances to get Mr. Spears out of his office,” offered the brunet to Knox as they sat down.

Ronald shrugged. “Maybe.”

_~Or maybe I should just give up this pipe dream of him ever being more than my boss. It would have been a good excuse to invite him out without makin’ it seem like a date, though. I’m such a chickenshit.~_

Alan studied him from behind the menu. “Ronald, you know if there’s ever anything you need to get off your chest, you can come to us.”

The blond flushed a little. Sometimes he thought Alan saw right through him. “Yeah, I know.” He winked at the waitress as she came to get their drink orders, just as Eric came inside to join them. “Hey, beautiful. I’ll have a lavender martini, the big bloke’ll have an old fashioned, and our friend’ll have a glass of shiraz.”

It had become such a common ritual to end the work day with drinks that each of them knew just what to order for each other. Ronald felt a bit more confident as the pretty blond waitress blushed in response to his flirting, and he could pretend for a moment that he wasn’t so helplessly enamored with a man he’d probably never have.

"Make mine half a glass," requested Alan. "I have to drive."

"Absolutely," she said with a smile, and then she was off to fetch their drinks.

Ronald relaxed in his booth seat and he looked at the big television monitor, which was displaying a game of cricket. His nose crinkled. “What a boring sport. I’ll be glad when the season’s over with. I’d rather be watching rugby.”

"Same here," agreed Eric. "So who’s yer latest victim gonna be, Ronnie?"

"Huh?"

"He means date," clarified Alan. "Are you taking anyone out this weekend? I’m sorry we aren’t available."

"Oh, right." He shrugged. "That’s okay. You’ve got the right t’ have a couple’s night out once in a while. Er, I haven’t really thought much on it. Guess I’d better start going through my phone book before all the girls are taken for the weekend."

Eric snorted. “I’ve seen ya in action, kid. Even if they’ve already go’ a date, most girls would blow it off tae go out wi’ ya.”

"Yeah, but I don’t wanna get a date by stealing from some other bloke." Ronald shrugged, knowing full well that Eric was right. It was too bad he couldn’t apply his confidence with the ladies to his interactions with a certain handsome Dispatch supervisor. "Maybe I’ll just go out on my own and get some new numbers, or even have a night out on th’ mortal side. I’ve seen a few cute birds in London."

"Jus’ be careful wi’ tha’," advised Eric seriously. "Datin’ mortals comes wi’ some baggage—especially if ya get attached to ‘em."

Ronald waved it off. “Don’t worry about that. If I take a human chippie out, it’s just for fun. I don’t even get attached t’ the Shinigami girls I date.”

"But they get attached to you," reasoned Alan with a little smile. "Hence why Eric calls them ‘victims’."

"Hey, he’s got no room to talk!" Ronald smirked at Eric. "I’ve heard stories about Slingby’s conquests, back in th’ day. Every guy wanted t’ be him and every girl wanted t’ be _with_ him.”

"Tha’s no’ entirely true," chuckled Eric. "Some o’ tha guys wanted tae be wi’ me, too." He winced as Alan poked him. "But now there’s only one tha’ matters tae me," he amended.

"Good save," approved Alan.

Their drinks came, and Ronald’s phone started to go off. He sighed and pulled it out of his pocket to check it. “Oh, it’s my mum texting me.”

He didn’t notice the way Eric tensed as he read over the text. “Oops…I forgot I’m s’posed t’ go over for dinner Sunday. Good thing I didn’t make any plans for that day, yet.”

He started texting her back, and he raised a brow at Eric when the Scotsman leaned over to look. “Gettin’ kinda nosey there, Eric-senpai.”

"I’m jus’ lookin’ at yer case. It’s a new one, aye?"

Ronald nodded absently. “Uh-huh.”

_"Hi Mum. Just having drinks with some mates. See u Sunday. Love u!"_

Eric sat back with a sigh and took a hefty swallow of his drink, grimacing at the burn. “Does she ever ask ‘bout yer work, Ronnie? Ever tell her ‘bout any of us?”

The blond shrugged and put his phone away. “Sometimes. I don’t give her many details, really. I mean, she’s a reaper, but she’s never worked with Dispatch. Somehow it doesn’t seem right t’ tell her some of the gory details o’ what we get up to, y’ know?”

Alan nodded. “Civilians live sheltered lives, compared to Dispatch agents. Even some of the other departments in our building can hardly believe the tales they hear from us, at times.”

"Right." Ronald sipped his drink, and he shook his head. "And I don’t want her t’ worry about me. She knows it can be dangerous, but she doesn’t need t’ know _how_ dangerous and lose sleep over it…so I only tell her the entertaining bits and leave the scary stuff out.”

Eric looked into his glass as if seeking answers to some riddle. “Yer protective of her. Tha’s good.”

"You bet! Anyone messes with my Mum and they’ll get a face full of lawnmower."

Beneath the table unseen, Alan patted Eric’s knee. “Well, I think that’s how any good son would feel about his mother. Most of us don’t have parents to know what it’s like first-hand, but it seems perfectly logical to me.”

* * *

 

Later that night after they dropped Ronald off and went home, Eric was pensive and rather withdrawn. Alan thought of the last time he’d seen him like this, after his old partner got killed by a demon. He didn’t really need to ask him what was on his mind, but he did so anyway as he cuddled up to him in the bed.

"What are you thinking of?"

Eric sighed and put an arm around him. “Wha’ am I doin’, Alan? I’m tryin’ tae be his friend ‘cause I dunno how tae be his father, but sooner or later, he’s bound tae find out, isn’t he? If he mentions mah name tae his mother an’ tells her he works wi’ me, she might spill tha beans.”

"But she knew you when you were still with the Edinburgh division," Alan pointed out. "She might just assume it’s a different Eric Slingby…or even if she doesn’t, she might not say anything at all. Ronald is twenty now, and she still hasn’t told him."

"She might change her mind ‘bout tha’ if she finds out I work wi’ him." Eric stroked the brunet’s hair and stared up at the ceiling. "Beatrice didnae strike me as a daft woman. I imagine she’ll start diggin’ tae find out if I’m tha same Eric she slept with years ago, and once she’s go’ confirmation, she might decide it’s best tae come clean wi’ him, before I can."

Alan bit his lip. “Well, have you ever thought to try and contact her? Speak with her about it? If she knows that you’re aware of it, maybe the two of you can come to an agreement on how to handle it.”

"I was actually thinkin’ along those lines," confessed Eric. He reached for his phone and opened up his contacts list to show Alan. "I wasnae reading Ronald’s text exchange wi’ her in the pub, when I leaned o’er tae look at his screen. I was getting her number."

Alan wasn’t really surprised. Eric could be quite sneaky, when it suited his needs. “So will you call her tomorrow?”

"I…dun’ know yet," sighed the blond. "I’ve gotta think ‘bout it…decide wha’ tha hell I’m even gonna say if I get tha balls tae ring her up at all."

Alan kissed his bare chest, running his palm over his torso lovingly. “Just tell her the truth. It may be the best way to resolve this, love.”

Deciding he needed a distraction if he was going to get any rest tonight, Alan let his hand slide lower, beneath the covers. Eric always slept in the nude these days, so he had no other barriers in the way of his goal. He smiled softly as Eric’s breath caught a little, and he kissed his neck.

"For now, just put the phone away. You still owe me for that bet, remember?"

Eric obligingly set the phone down on the nightstand, and he smirked. “Time tae pay up, eh?”

Without any further mention of his dilemma, the Scotsman rolled over and pinned his partner beneath him, kissing him deeply.

* * *

 

-To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

"Knox, wake up."

Ronald groaned and rolled over on his couch, swatting in the general direction of the familiar voice. “‘M sleepin’, Eric-senpai.”

"I can see tha’," replied the Scotsman, "an’ it’s a good thing I came half an hour early. Get yer arse up an’ get ready fer work, kid."

Ronald opened his eyes and blinked, his face mere inches from the cushions on the back of the couch. “Ugh…that’s right; it’s only Wednesday.”

"Aye. I brought ya some coffee. Go get an’ get changed, Ronnie. I warned yeh I’d drag ya out o’ bed mahself if I had tae."

"I’m goin’, I’m goin’," mumbled the sleepy blond, sitting up reluctantly. He peered around for his glasses, and he found them on his cluttered up coffee table. Yawning and stretching, he scratched his side and he looked at his friend as Eric had a seat in the armchair by the couch. "Didn’t sleep all that well," he excused. "You’re lookin’ kind of tired too."

Eric smirked and he sipped on the cup of coffee he’d picked up for himself on the way over. “Had tae get up early an’ make sure you got movin’.”

"Sorry," sighed Ronald. "I’ll try t’ pick up a good alarm clock today after work, so ya don’t have to keep doing this."

Eric shrugged. “Just go get ready an’ dun’ worry ‘bout it.” He nodded at the additional cup on the table. “There’s yer coffee.”

"I’ll drink it when I come out of the bathroom," informed Ron. "Thanks, Eric."

He went into the little bathroom to have a quick shower and change into his uniform for the day. He’d have to do laundry, soon. He only had two good suits right now, so he was going to have to settle for his old blazer and slacks for today. First he brushed his teeth and then he hopped in the shower, turning the temperature down low to help wake him up. Ronald was shivering by the time he stepped out, but the chilly water did help wake him up a bit and it shrunk his morning wood effectively.

Some fifteen minutes later, he came out wearing his uniform, with his hair freshly washed, blowdried and styled. “That’s a bit better,” he said as he sat back down on the couch and reached for the coffee Eric had brought him. “Where’s Alan?”

"I let him sleep in ‘till his alarm goes off," answered Eric. "We’ll go in separate cars today."

Ronald nodded. “That’s cool.” He sipped his coffee carefully, reminded of the time he gulped some down while it was still too hot and ended up scalding his esophagus. “Hey Eric, can I ask ya something? I mean about dating.”

Eric shrugged and checked his watch. “Sure. We’ve go’ a little time before we have tae leave. Wha’s on yer mind?”

"Do y’ think it’d be wrong for someone in management to date someone in a lower department? Like a subordinate?"

"I’d better no’," said the Scotsman with a chuckle. "I’d have tae be a hypocrite if I did. Al was lower rank than me when we started dating."

"But ya weren’t…like…his boss."

Eric shook his head. “No’ exactly, no. I waited ‘till he graduated from bein’ my apprentice before I let anything happen between us.” He frowned at Ronald. “Something goin’ on, kid?”

"I was just wondering," said Ronald hastily. "There’s no sexual harassment goin’ on, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just wanted t’ know for future reference whether it’s okay or not."

"Hmm. It could be messy if things went sour, but there’s no policy against it in Dispatch. Long as tha higher rankin’ one isnae holdin’ tha other’s job o’er their heads tae force ‘em intae anything, it’s probably fine. Go’ someone in mind, Ronnie?"

"Nah," lied the blond. "Just covering my bases. Ya know how I am. Might find a cute lady in upper management some day and want t’ ask her out. I wouldn’t want anyone to get in trouble, though."

Eric looked vaguely suspicious for a moment longer, but then he shrugged. “At least yer willing tae check first. Cannae say I ever thought tae do tha’, back in my dating days.”

* * *

 

It wasn’t until they went into work together and Eric noticed the way Ronald got flustered as soon as he saw William that he realized what was really going on. It honestly did surprise him, even though he’d already agreed with Alan’s assessment that Ronald might be at least bi. Seeing as he swung both ways himself, the notion didn’t shock him. Finding out that the object of his same-gender interest happened to be Spears was a bit disconcerting, though. Maybe he’d misread him, though. He probably wouldn’t have even thought anything of it, if Knox hadn’t brought up the subject of management dating subordinates before work.

"Al, I think Ronnie might have a thing fer tha boss," he informed his lover as they had their lunch together later on in the office they shared. He looked at the brunet expectantly, prepared for him to scoff or stare in shock. Instead, Alan just nodded and stirred his noodle bowl.

"Yes, I know."

Eric blinked at him. “Ya _know_? How long have ya known? I was hoping ye’d say I was imagining things.”

Alan smiled gently at him, and he sighed. “I’ve known for a good while, Eric…or at least suspected it. If you’re noticing it too, then I must have been right.”

Eric stared at his meatball sub without really seeing it. He didn’t know what to think or feel about it. It wasn’t as though he had a right to start playing the role of the protective Da now, after being absent from Ronnie’s life up until adulthood. “What gave ya tha first clue?” he asked, wanting to compare notes.

"Seeing him looking at William the same way I looked at you, when I was his age and trying to sort my own feelings out. I’ve been where he is." Alan smirked. "Though I’m sure I still look at you like that. At least now it’s not just a hopeless crush."

Eric sighed. “It was righ’ in front of m’ face an’ I ne’er even noticed it.”

"Well, Ronald _has_ been good about keeping it subtle enough that it could pass for a sense of intimidation or admiration for a superior,” excused Alan. “That’s why I never said anything. My gut feeling said otherwise, but I’m no mind reader.”

"Then maybe tha’s all it is," said Eric hopefully, finally taking a bite of his sub.

Alan looked at him curiously. “What if it’s not, Eric? You aren’t going to get irate about it, are you?”

The Scotsman hesitated. He chewed and swallowed the bite in his mouth, and he sighed, speaking his earlier thoughts out loud. “Wha’ right do I have? I jus’ told him this morning tha’ it’s no’ such a bad thing fer a higher authority tae date someone under ‘em in rank. I’d be a hypocrite if I said o’er wise, wouldn’t I?”

Alan shrugged. “More or less.”

"I jus’ dun’ want tae see him ruin his career or get hurt," debated Eric. "Say somethin’ happens between him an’ Spears…wha’ then? If they split up, how’s it gonna effect his work?"

"That’s a risk," agreed Alan, "but _we_ took it, and we’re just fine.”

"Aye, but tha’s no guarantee tha same would be true fer him." Eric put his food down and grimaced. "Och, I’ve go’ tae stop thinkin’ about it. There’s no bloody point, ‘till somethin’ actually happens. I’ve still got tae figure out if I’m goin’ tae call his mother an’ what I’ll even say tae her if I do."

"Then don’t worry about it, right now," suggested Alan. "If we’re right about this, Ronald’s nowhere _near_ ready to approach the supervisor romantically, and I honestly couldn’t tell you if Spears is even attracted to men. Worry about what’s happening right _now_ , Eric. What you need to worry about at the moment is how you are going to settle this parentage situation.”

Eric gave him a rueful smirk. “Lucky I’ve go’ yeh tae keep me grounded. I s’pose I ought tae work out what I’m gonna say tae Beatrice, before I even try tae call.”

Alan nodded and gave a pointed glance to Eric’s barely touched lunch. “You shouldn’t think on an empty stomach. Now _I_ get to remind _you_ to feed yourself.”

The older reaper chuckled and picked up his sandwich. “Enjoying tha’, eh?”

* * *

 

He was going to do it. He was going to finally tell William how he felt, and throw his chips on the table to fall where they may. He had to, because he couldn’t bear another night of fantasizing over what could be, never to have closure. Even if he got rejected, at least he would finally get confirmation that it was never going to happen, and he could try to move on and forget the whole thing.

Ronald walked into his superior’s office to hand in his reports, and he froze as he looked at him. So bloody handsome, and so suave. He himself might dress stylishly, but he knew he would never match William T. Spears’ effortless, masculine grace and poise.

"Yes?" William said without looking up from his paperwork.

Ronald cleared his throat, trying to remember to speak more properly and use less slang. William liked formal speech. “Boss, I’m here to hand in my reports for the day…and to tell you that I would love it if you bent me over that desk of yours and fucked my brains out, right here and right now.”

Well, maybe not _too_ proper.

William’s hand jerked, and whatever he was writing on the top document ended up with a long, scrawling line. He slowly lifted his head to stare at him. “I’m sorry; could you repeat that?”

Ronald shrugged, flushing. “Sure. I said I want you to bend me over your desk and fuck my brains out, sir.”

"That’s…what I thought you said."

William stood up, and Ronald nervously held his ground as he crossed the room. The taller reaper stood silently before him for a few moments, before speaking again in a low purr. “You are a filthy degenerate, Ronald Knox. I fear I must teach you some manners.”

Ronald swallowed. “Whatever you think is best, sir.”

With a smirk, William slid his hand under the blond’s tie and pulled the tail of it loose from the vest it was tucked into. “Indeed.”

He grasped the tie and pulled Ronald roughly towards him, his mouth descending to his in a punishing, bruising kiss. Ronald gasped and moaned into his mouth, accepting his dominating tongue eagerly as he twined his arms around his neck. Oh yeah…this was what he wanted…what he craved. He didn’t resist as his boss tugged on the tie insistently, guiding him back toward his desk without breaking the kiss. He finally released his lips after turning him around to push him against the desk, his hand clamping down on the back of his neck.

"Ronald…"

The blond closed his eyes. “Will…I’ve wanted this so bad.”

"Ronald Knox, are you listening to me?"

Ronald blinked, shaken out of his daydream by the supervisor’s faintly annoyed voice. He flushed in mortification over yet another lapse. “Y-yes sir? Sorry, I uh…didn’t catch that. What’d ya say?”

William sighed, his lips compressing briefly. “I said that we are in for a busy week,” he said with carefully controlled patience. “Your retrieval numbers are impressive, but you must be prepared to work even harder. The death rates have been climbing of late. In addition to the usual cases of people being killed by robbers, in street brawls or dying of illness, we seem to have a serial killer adding to the numbers. The prostitute that you and Sutcliff collected yesterday was not the only victim. Two others have been found in a similar state.”

Ronald shrugged, trying to will his cheeks to cool down. “Prostitutes get killed all th’ time, boss. It’s one of th’ hazards of their occupation, innit?” He winced at his own crude dialog when William’s brow twitched. “Sorry…I’ll try to tone it down.”

William chose not to address his manner of speaking. “It’s true that the ladies of the night live under dangerous conditions,” he admitted with an elegant nod of his head, “but what usually occurs is stabbing, throttling or bludgeoning to death—often by their own pimps. These three cases have been unique, however. The killer used surgical precision and each victim was missing certain parts belonging only to females; such as the one you collected whose womb was removed.”

"What other bits went missing?" Ronald grimaced, wishing he hadn’t asked that question but morbidly curious, all the same.

"Being a gentleman, I loathe describing it." William pondered for a moment, and then tapped his gloved fingers on the surface of his desk. "However, as a manager of this division, it falls upon me to ensure my agents are as prepared as possible. One was missing a breast. The second was relieved of her labia and clitoris."

Ronald’s thighs tightened in sympathy. He was not expert in anatomy, but he imagined that would be like having his junk chopped off. “Ouch. I sure hope they were already dead when it happened.”

"Regrettably not," answered William. "According to reports of their records viewed by the agents collecting them, these females were quite alive when it happened. The killer waited to slit their throats until after he’d committed these horrendous acts. Scotland Yard is only aware of one death, so far. The other bodies weren’t discovered by authorities, and they were a couple of days old before our agents found them. Yours was the most recent victim."

"Sounds like someone really hates women," reasoned Knox with a frown. "That’s awful. I know I’m not s’posed t’ care as a reaper, and I know most people think o’ working girls as trash anyway, but still…it’s awful."

William smirked without humor. “We are to be neutral in the matter of ferrying souls, Mr. Knox. There is no shame in finding the manner of their deaths appalling. The brutality of these attacks offends even me. It is vulgar, merciless…but not crazed. There is a method to the madness behind all this, and the responsible party is clearly learned enough to understand anatomy. The most dangerous criminal is the intelligent one.”

"Yeah, dangerous to mortals, anyhow." Ron shrugged. "We’re reapers though, so we aren’t likely t’ be in any danger from this creep when we’re out picking up after him."

William’s fingers ceased their drumming on the desk. “We aren’t certain that the killer is even human, Knox.”

Ronald’s eyes widened. “Oh. Ya mean like it could be a demon?”

William shook his head. “The souls were intact. You and the other agents would have arrived to find an empty shell, with no reels left to gather, if the culprit were a demon. To quote a masterful bard; _'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio'_. It could be any number of things, from a were-creature to a witch.”

Ronald’s brows furrowed. “But ain’t witches human?”

"Human, yes," agreed the older reaper, "but they are not classified as entirely mortal. Their dealings with the otherworld, spirits and magic make them quite possibly the most dangerous humans one could encounter. Fascinating creatures, really. They live between worlds, with one foot in the afterlife and one foot in the material plane. I daresay a witch could give any non-human supernatural a run for their money—including reapers. Has no-one schooled you on witches, Mr. Knox?"

Ronald shook his head. “Can’t say they have, sir. I’ve never met one. Are they all withered and warty?”

"Only the very old or aesthetically unfortunate. Witches appear as any other human—until one looks at their aura. That can be quite the light show."

Ronald smirked. “Sounds like you’ve got a thing for witches, boss. So I guess they’re not ‘vermin’, like demons?”

"Hmm, some," admitted the supervisor softly. "It depends on the witch, really. Some work with the light, while others are neutral. Some work with the darkness and demons. Those are the ones to be most wary of…the ones I harbor contempt for. Still, even the warlocks are to be respected. Never allow yourself to believe that you have the upper hand over any witch, simply because they are human."

Ronald nodded. “Right. So you’ve met a few, huh?”

The boss had never chatted so extensively with him, and Ronald wanted to keep him going for as long as he could. He liked the little hint of a smile on Will’s lips as he talked about what was apparently his favorite type of supernatural. It gave one a peek into William’s personality that he otherwise kept boxed up.

For a brief moment, Ronald was treated to a glimpse of a genuine smile of amusement from his boss. “Let us just say that when one of them astral projects into one’s bedroom by accident, it’s a rather memorable event. Witches are practically the only beings that can enter the Shinigami realm without permission or assistance from us.”

Ronald’s brows shot up. “Yeah? Were ya…naked?” He flushed, hoping he didn’t come off sounding like a perv for asking.

"Fortunately, I was not," clarified the older reaper, "but she did give me quite a start. I was just about to bed down for the night, when she appeared before my wardrobe. I mistook her for a ghost at first—perhaps an escaped stray from the library vaults that defied containment. It does happen, now and then."

Ronald grinned. “So what’d ya do?” He walked over to one of the chairs on the other side of William’s desk and sat down, making himself comfortable.

William huffed a bit, a quiet, subtle noise of amusement that Ron found immediately attractive. “Well…I threw my book at her. As I said; she gave me a start.”

Ronald laughed. “Ya struck a girl? Shame on you, boss.”

"It was reflexive," excused William with a slight shrug. "I’m not used to people suddenly appearing in my home, without invitation. She was not in material form, however, so it passed harmlessly through her. She was just as startled as I was, and she apologized profusely for the intrusion."

The blond couldn’t stop grinning. “What’d she say?”

"She said: ‘ _Oh, dear. Begging your pardon, good sir. This isn’t at all where I intended to go!’_ ”

William chuckled softly at the memory, and Ronald was stunned by the sound.

_~Gods, I want to lick him. Okay, Knoxie…down, boy. Play it cool, for death’s sake!_ ~

"W-what happened after that, sir?" he managed, trying to take his mind off the impulse to jump on the boss’s desk and make good on his compulsive urges.

"We ended up chatting for most of the night." William seemed quite fond of the memory. "There were certain things that both of us were forbidden from revealing to one another, naturally, but we did learn from each other. She even taught me how to ground and center—which I have been doing regularly each morning as part of my routine, ever since."

"She sounds…nice." Ronald bit back some jealousy. Did Spears have a thing with this witch? "What’s ‘grounding and centering’, anyhow?"

"Essentially, it is the alignment of chakras—which are energy points in the bodies of all living things…even reapers. Learning to channel that energy, expulse the negative and allow the positive to flow…it does help a bit. Consider it a daily recharge, of sorts. Witches are not the only ones to make use of the exercise. Monks do it as well, so I’ve learned."

"Wow…sounds kinda cool. What else did she teach ya? Or did ya ever see her again?"

_~Are ya still seeing her? Am I totally screwed?_ ~

"Yes, I saw her again. Quite a few times, in fact. I even met her in the flesh. She taught me basic shielding, to contain my thoughts, feelings and energy from being read by others. It has proved a useful tool."

"Oh." Ronald had no idea what ‘shielding’ was, but the basic description explained a lot of things about Spears and his seemingly impenetrable stoicism. "So do you two still hang out?"

William shook his head. “Sadly, no. She passed…oh, I believe it was seventeen years ago. Regardless of her powers, she was still susceptible to mortal illness. She died of pneumonia at the age of thirty-three. I was the one who reaped her, in fact…and she knew me immediately and went with me without a fuss.”

Ronald didn’t quite know what to say. There seemed to be a hint of sadness in William’s eyes, but maybe he was imagining it. “You got attached,” he finally guessed.

William gave a brief, single nod. “It happens. There is hardly a reaper in existence that manages to make it through his or her career without eventually having an ill-advised attachment to some short-lived mortal. Powerful though they may be, witches cannot extend their lifespan beyond the norm for their species. I have no regrets in knowing her, nor do I wish I could have granted her immortality. It was her time, and she accepted that. If only all humans could do the same.”

It was like being presented with a treasure, this sharing of such a personal event in William’s life. Ronald couldn’t say what he’d done to deserve it, but he instinctively knew it wasn’t a thing the boss shared with others readily.

"What was her name, sir?"

William’s gaze was steady on him as he answered. “Lorraine. And yes, I counted her as a friend. I would…appreciate it if you would keep this between us, Knox. I’m not even sure why I revealed this information to you, except…”

He hesitated and looked to the window, frowning. “You have a disarming presence.”

Ronald’s heart beat faster. If he had such an effect on William’s stoicism, than maybe he provoked _other_ feelings, as well. “I promise, boss. It’s just between you and me.”

”’ _You_ _and I_ ’,” corrected Spears with a faint smirk, “but thank you for your discretion. Now then, we’ve chatted about my past enough, I think. To get back on the original subject; I want you to be especially careful whilst gathering any records from women that fall victim to this new killer. Aside from the usual danger of demonic carrion attempting to devour their souls, we still can’t be certain of the manner of creature behind all this. Is that understood, Ronald Knox?”

Ronald nodded, his yellow-gold bangs falling over one eye with the motion. “Yes, sir. I’ll be careful. Thanks.”

Was he imagining it, or was Spears taking a personal interest in his safety? Probably just wishful thinking, on his part.

"Very good, then. You are dismissed. Have a pleasant evening, Agent Knox."

Ronald checked a sigh. Well, it was good while it lasted. “You too, boss. I’ll see y’ tomorrow.”

* * *

 

Later that evening after work and dinner, Eric paced in the apartment he shared with his partner, working out his opening speech in his head. “A’right, she’s just a woman. I mean, she’s more than tha’, but…nothin’ tae be scared of. Haven’t talked tae her in years, but…dammit, I’m no’ tha villain, here…”

Alan came up behind him and he began to rub his broad shoulders. “No, you aren’t…and neither is she. It was a one-night stand, Eric. Imagine how she must have felt when she realized she was carrying your child as a result. Just think of that, when you call her. It’s best not to be confrontational, love. Try to be understanding and patient, and I’m sure you can work out an agreement with her.”

Eric took a deep breath and nodded, laying a hand over one of Alan’s smaller ones. “Thank ya…fer bein’ so understanding.”

Alan smiled and rested his cheek against his back. “You’ve been thanking me for that ever since we found out. You don’t need to, you know. You are my lover, my partner and my best friend…and I don’t feel threatened by her. I just want you to be happy, okay?”

"Aye, got it." Eric turned and cupped his face to give him a kiss. "I’ll try not tae be sae manic about it. Guess I’d better get it over wi’, eh?"

"Would you like me to go into the bedroom while you call her, to give you some privacy?"

Eric shook his head. “No need fer that, sweetheart. Like ya said, yer mah partner in all things, an’ I think ya deserve tae know exactly wha’s goin’ on wi’ this. You’ve taken Ronnie under yer wing as much as I have, after all. Yer his ‘second father’.”

Alan smiled and nodded, taking his place on the couch while Eric pulled out his cell phone and looked up the contact number. The Scotsman cleared his throat, licked his lips and hit the “call” button, shooting his partner a dreading look. Alan gave him two thumbs-up and a supportive smile.

"You’ll be fine," whispered the brunet. "Just be honest."

Eric nodded convulsively, and he withdrew a clove and lit it up while he waited for the other line to pick up. Just as he took a drag of the cigar, a familiar female voice answered the phone. “Knox residence,” she said. He’d forgotten how melodic her voice was, and for a moment he just stood there with a stupid expression on his face.

"Hullo?" prompted Beatrice. "Is anyone there, or is this an accidental bum call?"

Eric jerked himself out of his stupor at the mention of a “bum call”—which generally referred to people accidentally calling contacts after sitting on their phone. “Uh, no, it’s no’ an accidental call,” he answered. “It’s…it’s Eric.”

There was a moment of silence. “Eric?” She replied, sounding perplexed. “Sorry, but do I know ya? Eric who?”

"Slingby," he answered, pacing again. "Tha father o’ yer son Ronald. Do ya remember, me, Beatrice?"

"Oh…oh, bloody hell. Christ on stilts man, how’d you…where are y’ at?" She sounded faintly panicked. He could relate.

"In London," he answered her. "Shinigami side, o’ course. I transferred here permanently from Edinburgh. Didn’t expect tae run into tha son I ne’er knew I sired."

On the couch, Alan groaned softly and facepalmed. “Eric…gently,” he whispered.

The Scotsman winced, realizing he’d come off harsher than intended. “I’m no’ mad at ya,” he assured the now silent woman on the phone. “I jus’ want tae talk ‘bout how we’re gonna handle this. I found out by chance when he dropped his wallet at tha dance last year an’ I saw a photo of ya in it. Did a paternity test too, so I know he’s mine.”

"Oh, bugger," she huffed. "Eric, I…well, we haven’t seen or spoken since that night, and I…it was such a shock t’ me when I found out I was carrying. I really didn’t know how to tell you, and I never expected you to cross paths with my Ronnie…well, _our_ Ronnie…”

"Shh, Beatrice, it’s a’right," he assured her, smirking a little in spite of himself. She sounded like a female version of her son. That candid way of speaking had been what initially attracted him. "I’m no’ calling tae give ye a tongue-lashing, woman. I jus’…needed tae clear some things up an’ figure out what tae do. I’ve been mullin’ over it fer a year now, an’ I think we’ve got some decisions tae make."

"Oh, buggery fuck…"

Eric laughed in spite of himself. “Calm down. Jus’ breathe.”

She took a few deep breaths, before answering him. “Sorry love, I just…wasn’t expecting this. I’ve wanted t’ tell him about you so many times, but I was too cowardly. Didn’t know how to contact you, didn’t know what t’ say…I thought what y’ didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you. Have you…told him? He hasn’t mentioned it yet.”

Eric shook his head. “No, I havenae said anything. I dinnae know how, truth be told. But Beatrice…I think we ought tae talk about it an’ decide when an’ how tae tell him the truth. He deserves tae know who his Da is, even though it terrifies me tae think o’ how he might react.”

She sighed. “Bloody ‘ell. You’re right, of course. Eric, I am so sorry.”

"It’s in tha past now," he insisted. "Wha’ we’ve go’ tae think on is Ronnie’s future. Wha’ have ya been tellin’ him, all these years?"

She hesitated. “Well, I…I told him that his father walked out on us when he was a babe.”

Eric winced. “Ouch. Tha’ stings.”

"I’m sorry." She sounded sincerely contrite. "I never meant any harm t’ either of you. It just seemed like the best story to give him. Oh, my sweet Ronnie’s never going to forgive me, when he finds out th’ truth!"

"I doubt tha’," soothed Eric. "Tha boy loves his ma. He’s made it a point tae let everyone know tha’, too. Might be pissed fer a while, but he’ll forgive ya. It’s me he might no’ forgive."

"I can’t toss you under the bus anymore than I already have," she objected. "I…I’ll tell him the truth. This wasn’t your fault. I’m sure if you’d known, you would have been involved. I never gave you that chance, Eric. I’m the lowlife, here."

The Scotsman shrugged. “I ne’er gave ya reason tae think I’d be supportive. Let’s jus’ say we were both irresponsible an’ leave it at tha’. Question is, how long do we keep hiding this from him?”

She took a moment to think on it, before speaking in a sigh. “I’m so tired of lying t’ him. I love that boy more than life itself. Eric…would y’ consider coming over the weekend after next with him for dinner? We could tell him together, afterwards.”

Eric glanced at Alan. “Would ya mind mah partner comin’ wi’ me? He’s had a hand in Ronnie’s training too, an’ he cares fer him as much as I do.”

He ignored Alan’s pleading gestures and shaking head. He _needed_ the man there with him for moral support, and Alan was about the most diplomatic reaper he knew. If things went sour, Humphries had the best chance of clearing it up.

"I s’pose that would be all right," consented Beatrice. "If Ronald is friendly with him and trusts him, it might be better on him t’ have a supportive person there to turn to."

Eric nodded in agreement. “I should let ya know now; Alan an’ I are also in a committed relationship wi’ each other. Is tha’ gonna make it weird for ye?”

"Er, no…of course not," she answered. "I never knew y’ were interested in the lads, but it’ll be fine."

"Good. I guess…we’ll see ya next weekend, then. Fer wha’ it’s worth, Beatrice…I’m no’ sae sure I’d have made a good father figure fer tha lad. I’m his friend, more ‘n anything…an’ that’ll prolly change after next weekend."

"We’ll just see," she sighed. "Ronnie has always been sweeter than he was judgmental, though. Maybe he’ll forgive th’ both of us."

"Maybe," grunted Eric. "G’night, Beatrice…an’ thanks fer hearin’ me out an’ working wi’ me on a game plan."

He hung up then, and he exhaled slowly as he turned to his partner. “‘M sorry fer draggin’ ya into it, lover. I jus’ feel like I really need ya there. I know it’s a little awkward, but—”

"—So long as she understands our relationship, I can manage," interrupted Alan. "I just didn’t want to get embroiled in such a personal matter…but I suppose I’m already involved. There’s no use in complaining about it. I wouldn’t really have it any other way."

Eric smiled and he joined him on the couch, putting an arm around him to draw him into an embrace. He pecked him on the cheek and he sighed. “Yer mah rock, Alan. I dunno if I can ever repay ya, but I’ll try.”

Alan smiled and laid his head on his shoulder. “You repay me every night, Eric. There’s no need to worry about it.”

* * *

 

-To be continued    


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

* * *

The next Monday after the weekend, it came as no surprise to Eric when Ronald joined him and Alan in their office for lunch and made him an offer. “Hey, what are you two doing this coming weekend? I mean Sunday night? Got any plans?”

Eric glanced at Alan. They had deliberately left Sunday free, knowing that Beatrice intended to have them over for dinner. “We’ve go’ nothin’ scheduled,” he answered. “Wha’s up?”

Ronald shrugged and opened up his personal pizza. “I dunno how y’ feel about it, but Mum and I talked last night at dinner, and she’s interested in meeting some of my friends. Well, coworkers, but you’re my mates, too. I told her a bit about you, Grell and the boss, and I guess she’s curious. She’s invited ya to come for dinner this Sunday, if you’re interested.”

He grimaced a little. “I know it might seem a bit weird, so if you’re not up for it, that’s okay.”

"I think it sounds nice," Alan assured him before Eric could speak, "and I don’t think it’s strange for your mother to be interested in getting to know the people you work closely with. Eric, don’t you think it sounds nice?"

The Scotsman grunted and nodded, finding his tongue frozen to the roof of his mouth. _~Aye. Nice an’ awkward…but we’ve go’ tae get it o’er wi’ some time.~_

"Really?" Ron grinned. "Cool! I kind of expected reluctance. I think you’ll like my mum. She’s really laid back and she won’t grill ya the way some mums might."

Alan smiled. “We’d love to, Ronald. Tell her we’ll be there, and thank you for the invitation.”

"That’s a relief," sighed the blond. He sprinkled some Parmesan on his pizza. "I thought of inviting Grell too, but she said she only had enough ingredients t’ make a meal for four people. I guess it’s better she not meet Senpai first. She might get the wrong impression o’ the people I work with…no offense to Grell."

Eric snorted. “Tha’ would have been rich. Good call on leavin’ introductions of Sutcliff fer last.”

Ronald chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll introduce her t’ the sane ones first.”

Alan smirked at his partner. “I think ‘sane’ might be a bit of a stretch, when it comes to Slingby.”

"Oi, I’m jus’ as sane as yeh are," protested Eric, before taking a bite of his roast beef sandwich.

"But far more reckless," teased the brunet. He stirred his rice bowl before spooning some into his mouth.

"Mum can appreciate reckless," promised Ronald. "She likes that sort, anyhow."

Eric nearly choked as Alan’s gaze slid to him—not judging, necessarily, but there was a wry expression in his eyes. He flushed and reached for his drink to rinse his food down.

"You okay?" Ronald asked, noticing the way he coughed a bit.

Eric nodded. “Started goin’ down tha wrong way,” he excused.

Alan quietly resumed eating, saying nothing.

 

* * *

 

A couple of days passed, and on Wednesday, Ronald noticed that his mentor was around less and less in the office. He knew Spears had him investigating the recent string of murders, but it was starting to cut into Ronald’s own reaping time. His collection rates were dropping as a result, because he wasn’t permitted to reap without a senior officer yet. Even the senior officers were advised not to take on too many reapings without a partner, these days. By the time Grell finished up with whatever he was doing and met up with him to take him out collecting, other agents had already reaped half of Ronald’s marks.

"Where the hell _are_ ya, Senpai?” Ronald checked his watch again, and he sighed. He was standing in the lobby, ready to jump on his mentor the minute he came in. “I’m out of things t’ do and my assignments ain’t gonna collect ‘emselves!”

"Problem, Mr. Knox?"

A shiver immediately went up Ronald’s spine at the sound of that familiar male voice, coming up behind him. He turned to regard the supervisor, hoping he wasn’t about to get a lecture on his dropping collection rates. “Er, no sir,” he hastily assured him. “Just waiting for my senpai to make it back in so I can go out and reap.”

William checked his watch with a frown. “He is running extraordinarily late, today. How many collections have you been assigned, Knox?”

"Five," sighed Ronald. "Would have been seven, but the first two on the list were due to die over an hour ago. I’m sure some other reaper must have gotten to ‘em, by now." He was really trying to speak more eloquently in Will’s presence, if only to prove to the man that he wasn’t just a dumb country boy. "I’ve got no idea how many Grell’s been assigned."

William sighed. “I see.” He produced his small organizer from his blazer, checking through it. “Well then, we cannot wait around for him. Wait here for me whilst I put out a memo to General Affairs, and I shall accompany you on your reaps.”

Ronald’s eyes widened. He felt like he’d just gotten VIP tickets to some huge event. “R-really? You’d do that, Spears-senpai?”

"You seem surprised." William adjusted his glasses. "Our department cannot afford to slack off. If your assigned partner cannot be present in a timely manner to assist you as protocol demands, then another senior officer should do so. Considering all other field agents are currently booked up and out collecting, it falls upon me to provide you backup and supervision."

Ronald heaved a sigh, looking down at his expensive white shoes. “I’m sorry, boss. I don’t want t’ be a burden.”

William raised a brow. “This is no fault of yours. It’s Sutcliff’s failure. If he cannot perform the duties assigned to him then it is he who shall be penalized. Your work has been impressive, whereas I’m sorry to say, Grell’s has not. Fortunately, I’m ahead enough of schedule to take up his slack. Just wait here for me, and I shall return shortly.”

Ronald nodded and gave him a hesitant smile. “Thanks, sir.”

 

* * *

 

_~Okay Ronald, don’t think about the hot boss standing behind you. Just do the job._ Be _the job. Be the reaper.~_

Ordinarily, he had no trouble focusing on his reaps. It was quite another story with William T. Spears watching in the background. He watched his target crossing the street, and he prepared himself for the moment. He’d never reaped in front of William before, and he desperately wanted his approval…wanted to show him what he was made of and impress him.

_~Don’t think of him as your boss. He’s another reaper, just like you. Confidence. Show him that Knoxie confidence. You can do this!~_

The appointed moment came, and the victim barely even noticed the man coming up behind him—until it was too late. There was a brief struggle as he was tackled into the alley, followed by a muffled groan as his attacker stabbed him several times in the gut and took off with his coin purse. Ronald didn’t hesitate to act. He jumped down from the roof, masked from mortal eyes, and he sprinted into the alley as the mugger ran past him without noticing him.

"Sorry, bloke," said the blond as he summoned his scythe and approached the gasping, trembling form. "Your time’s up."

He started up his mower and cut into the bewildered, dying victim, feeling William’s eyes on him the whole time. He worked as quickly and efficiently as possible, paying careful attention to the reels as he collected them with his scythe.

"Alfred Jennings," he said aloud as his supervisor came up behind him. "Aged twenty-two, male, father of one and husband of Winifred Jennings. Cause of death: stabbing."

He watched the records until the final, glowing reel was drawn into his scythe, and then he withdrew his report book and scribbled into it. “No special notes. He had nothing special to contribute, so has been fully reaped for processing.”

He closed the book and looked back to William. “Next?”

The tall, raven-haired man nodded, offering a low compliment. “Well done, Knox. Should your other reapings today prove as clean, I may mark you down for promotional consideration. Let’s move on, shall we? Your next target is in the hospital, three blocks away.”

Ronald beamed at the praise, and he forgot to curb his slang. “Thanks, boss! I’ll reap ‘em before they know death’s comin’.”

"Don’t get cocky," admonished William.

Ronald winced and berated himself for letting it go to his head. For the rest of the day, he was especially careful with his collections. He had to admit, it was probably the cleanest run he’d had so far.

 

* * *

 

Grell was immediately called into William’s office when he returned to headquarters, and the moment he walked through the door, he was skewered by William’s icy glare.

"Close the door behind you, Grell Sutcliff," ordered the brunet.

"Goodness, you look cross," observed the redhead as he complied. He tucked a strand of crimson hair behind his ear as he crossed the room and stood before Will. "I know I was late returning and reporting in today Will, but I was—"

"I don’t want to hear your excuses," snapped William, eyes narrowed on him. "Where _exactly_ have you been? I was forced to take your apprentice out in your place for his collections, and he missed out on two of them thanks to you.”

"That’s what I was trying to tell you," whined Grell in a fawning manner. "No need to be so cold, darling. I was out investigating the string of murders as you ordered, and I thought that I was closing in on the culprit! Sadly, it turned out to be a wild goose chase. He evaded me and what I found instead was some poor sod of a drunk."

Grell waved a hand in disgust. “Really, the man smelt of more liquor than the human body should logically be able to handle! I have my collections, though. One of them was yet another victim of this maniac. Her womb was taken, like the last one Ronnie and I collected.”

Grell’s eyes dilated as he thought on it. “There was so much blood…”

William frowned at him, and he stood up. “What is wrong with your eyes?”

Grell blinked and looked at him. “Pardon me?”

William circled around his desk, staring into the redhead’s eyes. “Why are your pupils so enormous, all the sudden? Sutcliff…are you on some form of _medication_?”

Grell shook his head in denial, his pupils rapidly shrinking back to normal size. “Of course not, Will! I’m very well aware of the rules against being under the influence of substances while on the clock. What a ridiculous notion.”

William didn’t seem convinced, and he reached out with a gloved hand to wipe away a half-dried trickle of blood he’d noticed on the left side of Grell’s face. He examined his finger, looking at the substance, before pinning the other reaper with his suspicious gaze again. “You seem to be getting inordinately sloppy with your work.”

Grell self-consciously rubbed the spot where his superior had collected the blood. He shrugged and smiled sharply at him. “The mess was already there when I arrived. So a bit of it got on me…what of it?”

"I cannot help but feel that something odd is going on with you," William said, looking Grell up and down. "Odder than usual, that is. Did something occur during your mission that you haven’t seen fit to share with me?"

Knowing that this reaper knew him better than any of the others, Grell laid it on thick. “Well, I _did_ make a new friend, and I met the most gorgeous man today, too. Tall, dark and handsome, like yourself. Be of good cheer, Will; he may even distract me from my pursuit of you for a while. Now, may I be excused so that I can turn in my collections, or would you rather stand here glaring at me?”

William stared for a moment longer, before giving a terse nod. “Off with you, then. Be forewarned, however: I shall be keeping an eye on you, Grell Sutcliff. I can tell that you are up to something. I simply don’t know exactly _what_ , as of yet.”

Grell shrugged and smirked over his shoulder at him as he turned to go. “But William, darling; I’m _always_ up to something. Your keen sense of perception is a tad bit off.”

He blew him a kiss, before heading through the door and shutting it behind him. Once in the hallway, Grell breathed a sigh of relief. He’d need to be more careful around William, from now on.

 

* * *

 

The weekend came along, and with it, the big day that Eric was dreading so much. Alan cast a worried look at his lover as Eric hurried past him from behind to rush to the bathroom.

"Again?" he called out, returning his attention to his tie. "Eric, maybe you ought to take something for that." He knew that Eric still had leftover anxiety pills, prescribed to him when he was struggling with his grief over the loss of his first partner.

The toilet flushed a moment later, followed by the sound of the tap running. Eric came back into the bedroom with a sigh. “No. I’ve got tae have mah wits about me tonight. Damn, I’ve ne’er had this problem before.”

"You’ve never been about to confess to one of your best friends that you’re actually his father before," Alan pointed out gently. "We’re going to be eating dinner. Do you really want to have to get up and dash for the loo every ten minutes? Especially when you’re trying to explain the truth to Ronald?"

Alan imitated the Scotsman’s voice. “ _'Now Ronnie, I dinnae know about this 'till…oh, hold up a minute, lad. Gotta go take care o' something'_.” Alan groaned theatrically and pressed a hand against his abdomen, before imitating the way Eric had lurched to the toilet moments ago. He stopped at the doorway and straightened back up, looking at his partner with raised brows.

"See what I mean?"

Eric started to laugh in spite of himself. “At least ya were kind enough no’ tae add farting sound effects tae yer little skit.”

Alan chuckled softly and approached him, laying his hands on his shoulders and looking up at him. “It’s just nerves, Eric, but if you won’t take any meds for it, we should at least pick up something for…er…bowel issues at the pharmacy before we go.”

Eric sighed. “Right. Dun’ want tae embarrass myself if it can be avoided. I guess I’ll take yer advice.”

Alan patted him on the arm, and then he went into the kitchen to check on the hors d’oeuvres he’d put together to contribute. “We should be going soon,” he called out as he closed the container. “Especially if we’re going to drop by the chemist. Do you need help with your tie?”

Eric came out of the bedroom with a slight scowl on his face, his sloppy tie answering the question before he could. “What do _yeh_ think, love?”

Alan smiled and walked over to fix it. Eric’s tie-knotting skills were hit or miss on a regular day. With his nerves frayed as they were, it was no surprise that he hadn’t the patience to get it done properly.

"It’s going to be all right," promised Alan as he straightened it, untied it and started from scratch. "Just take a deep breath, love. I know it’s frightening, but this is Ronald we’re talking about. He doesn’t have a resentful bone in his body."

"I dunno ‘bout tha’," murmured Eric, "but let’s hope yer right."

"Eric, he loves you," stated the smaller reaper. "He looks up to you, and when he gets into trouble, you’re usually the first person he goes to for help. Grell and I run a close second, but he already sees you as a father figure, whether he’s aware of it or not. Even if he’s angry for a while, I sincerely doubt he’ll stay that way forever."

Eric nodded, putting his hands on his waist. “I’ll hold ya tae tha’, sweetheart.”

Alan finished up and stepped back, taking in his partner’s brown suit, white shirt and black tie. “All finished. Don’t you look handsome.” He sighed. “It’s a pity you don’t wear earth tones to the office more often, but I suppose it would distract me. They really suit you.”

The Scotsman smiled down at him. “An’ blue is definitely yer color, Al. Do ya think we’re overdoin’ it with tha clothes?”

Alan shrugged and tightened his bola. “We’re meeting a work colleague’s mother for the first time. It’s traditional to dress semi-formally for dinner invitations, unless the host says otherwise. I think we’ll be fine.”

Eric took another deep breath and nodded. “Wull, let’s get this o’er wi’ and stop by tha pharmacy, before I’ve gotta shite again.”

 

* * *

 

Ronald smiled as he answered the door, and he blinked when he saw his two coworkers. “Hey, what’re y’ doing all dressed up like that?” He himself was wearing a cream-colored polo shirt, a pair of blue jeans and white sneakers. “Now I feel kinda underdressed.”

The partnered reapers glanced at each other, and Eric shrugged. “Ya ne’er specified how formal it was, so we went fer somethin’ in tha middle range. It’s no’ like we’re dressed fer a wedding, Ronnie.”

"Yeah, but you both look pretty sharp. Makes me feel sort of dumpy." Ronald grinned and gestured at them to come in. "Come on. Mum’s in the kitchen finishing up. We can sit in the parlor and watch the tube."

"Any good games on?" asked Eric as he stepped into the foyer behind his partner and shut the door. The aroma of a pot roast and vegetables wafted from the kitchen through the modest little cottage, and the Scotsman sniffed the air appreciatively.

Ronald shrugged. “Not unless ya like cricket. I think there’s a replay of last season’s rugby world cup on one of the channels though, if we can get reception. Sorry, mum doesn’t get too many channels.”

“‘S a’right,” assured Eric. “Al and I dun’ watch much television anyhow, unless it’s a designated movie night.”

“‘Movie night’?” repeated Ronald as he led them into the small parlor.

There really wasn’t much to his mother’s home. Though it had some of the modern amenities of the Shinigami realm, it was designed much like the homes on the mortal side, reflecting the current time period there. A quaint little cottage with two small bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen opening into a petite dining area and the parlor, one could get from one side of the house to the next in fifteen paces or less, depending on the length of their stride.

"Every Wednesday," confirmed Alan with a nod. "Eric and I pick out a movie to rent, pop some corn and watch it at home."

"Sounds fun," said Ronald without much enthusiasm.

Eric chuckled. “Yer allowed tae say ‘boring’, Ronnie. We know yer more of a clubbing person.”

The boy shrugged and gestured for them to have a seat on the plushy old couch. “Yeah, but I’m sure if I had a significant other, a night in the week t’ just relax together at home would be nice.”

"Ronald, have our guests shown up?" called a woman’s voice from the kitchen.

Not noticing the way Eric tensed at the sound of his mother’s voice, Ronald called out to her. “Yeah, Mum! Come out and say hi.”

"…I’ll be out in a bit," she called back. "Don’t just stand there, boy…get ‘em something t’ drink!"

"Oh, right." Ronald shrugged apologetically to the older men. "What would y’ like? I brought a six pack of beer and there’s some rum in the cabinet. Otherwise we’ve got lemonade, tea and water. Sorry, Mum doesn’t keep pop in the fridge. Says it’s bad for the teeth."

"I’ll have some rum," Eric said—to the surprise of no-one.

"Lemonade would be fine for me," declared Alan.

"Comin’ right up." Ronald grabbed up the remote for the little television in the corner of the room and he clicked it on, before handing the device over to Eric. "Feel free t’ channel surf and watch whatever grabs your attention. I couldn’t find a bloody thing to watch, m’self."

He left then, heading into the kitchen to fetch their beverages.

 

* * *

 

"Cute how he speaks wi’ a stronger accent ‘round his ma," Eric observed with a slightly nervous chuckle, once Ronald was out of earshot.

"Rather like you when you were living in Scotland," reminded Alan with a smile. "I could hear the difference, the first time we spoke over the phone after you got deported."

"Hmm, think mah accent’s dulled since then?" Eric scratched his goatee thoughtfully.

Alan shrugged. “Just a bit; but I think that’s normal. The longer you live somewhere, the more you pick up on speech patterns in the area—and you _have_ gone back into the habit of speaking like a Brit around most of our associates.”

"Hmph…better ‘n havin’ everyone asking me tae repeat myself. I think they’re jus’ too lazy tae mentally translate mah natural accent."

"Maybe," conceded Alan, "but to be fair, when I first met you I had a bit of trouble understanding you. It didn’t take me long to adjust to it, but that could be due to my infatuation and clinging to every word you said. There’s that, and I found your accent sexy."

Eric chuckled and put an arm around him for a brief squeeze, clicking through the channels with the remote. Most of them were just static, and the four which actually tuned in were hosting a cricket match, a baking show, a soap opera and a replay of the last big Rugby match—though as Ron said; the reception on that channel was poor. Giving up, the Scotsman turned the television off and set the remote back on the coffee table.

"How is your stomach?" whispered Alan as he gave Eric’s knee a squeeze.

"Better, after takin’ tha’ pitstop and popping tha pills we picked up."

"Good." Alan patted his knee, and then he withdrew his hand when Ronald came back in with a beer bottle tucked under one arm and a glass in each hand.

"Okay, here ya go." The blond offered the beverages to the officers, before taking a seat in the reclining armchair catty-corner to them.

He popped the top on his beer and put the cap in his pants pocket. “Ah, that’s better,” he sighed after having a swallow. He grinned at the couple. “Ya didn’t have to un-couple for me. It’s not like I don’t know you’re an item. Most of us at the office do, y’ know…it’s just never talked about.”

"Al’s jus’ shy ‘bout public displays of affection," excused Eric. "He gives me plenty of attention at home, though."

"Well, you’re not in ‘public’," reasoned the blond, "and if you’re worried about what mum’ll think, don’t. She’s cool with just about any combo, long as everyone’s consenting."

Eric coughed. “Y’ dun’ say.”

"It’s true! Like I said before: Mum’s really laid back. She won’t freak if ya hold hands or anything."

"It’s all right, Ronald," assured Alan with a smile. "You don’t need to play ‘matchmaker’ with us. Eric and I are content with small gestures of affection, without needing to be attached at the hip. At any rate, I need to use the loo."

"First door down th’ hall on tha righ’," Eric advised before Ronald could tell him where it was.

"How’d ya know that?" queried the blond with surprise.

"Er…I was jus’ guessing." Eric shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Well, it was a bloody good guess! He’s right, Alan senpai. First door on the right."

"Thank you. Please excuse me." Alan set his drink aside and got up to use said facilities.

Ronald watched the brunet go, and he looked at Eric and leaned forward in his seat to speak in a low voice. “So Eric senpai, have ya ever thought of popping the question t’ him?”

Eric damned near choked on his rum as he was sipping it. He coughed into his hand and waited until he could take a breath again, before answering. “I cannae say tha’ crossed mah mind, lad.”

"Well, why not?" Ronald looked like a curious, innocent puppy to him as he watched him inquisitively. "If ya love ‘im and you’ve been together so long, doesn’t it kinda make sense?"

"Wull, yeah…technically. But marriage is more a thing fer straight couples tha’ want tae live under tha same name an’ raise kids together—least for reapers."

There were no gender restrictions on taking vows in Shinigami society, per say—but marriage generally was a contract that “breeding” couples entered together. There were no additional benefits to tempt a same gender couple to tie the knot, and should they split up, there was the issue of legal fees to divorce. Most of them only married if they were planning to have children or were exceptionally devoted to each other. Considering that reapers as a whole did not look down on unmarried couples living together, there really was no social incentive to do it. Some couples even raised families without ever taking legally binding vows.

Ronald shrugged. “Ah, well. I think you’d make a really cute bride and groom…or groom and groom…whatever. Mum never married. I guess I kind o’ want you and Alan to tie the knot just so I can be Best Man and see you crazy kids hitched.”

“‘Crazy kids’, eh?” Eric chuckled, but it pained his heart to hear Ronald talk about such a thing. He wished he could have given him a normal childhood, with both a mother and a father who loved him.

"Man, I’m sorry," Ronald lamented upon noticing the flicker of regret that passed over Eric’s face. "I didn’t mean t’ make ya uncomfortable. I just figured if any couple I know ought to take the vows, it’s you two."

Eric took another swallow of rum. He had to admit, the idea had some appeal to him. He loved Alan more than he’d ever loved anyone, and if he was going to make a legally binding commitment with anyone in creation, it would have to be him. “Never know what could happen in tha future.”

"Well if ya ever _do_ decide to ask him, I’d better be first t’ know about it!”

"Ask me what?" Alan came back from the restroom in time to catch the tail end of it.

"Nothin’," said Eric hastily. "We were jus’ talking about…Grell."

Alan’s brows furrowed. “What about him?” He sat back down beside Eric and picked up his lemonade again for a sip.

"If he’s ever been with a girl," Ronald improvised. "I mean, _I_ don’t think so, since he’s so girly himself, but ya can’t always tell which way someone swings based on something like that, right?”

It was Alan’s turn to nearly choke. “That’s honestly nobody’s business but Grell’s. Shame on you both for gossiping about such a personal matter behind a colleague’s back.”

Eric raised his brows. “Have ye no’ heard some o’ tha gossip Sutcliff himself spreads ‘round tha office about everyone else—including us?”

Alan shrugged. “That’s no excuse for us to stoop to that level.”

Beatrice came in at that moment, putting a halt to the conversation. “Dinner’s ready! I should probably introduce myself. I’m Ronnie’s mum, if it wasn’t obvious.”

Eric looked up at her, and a flood of memories of their night together came back to haunt him. She was an attractive woman with a youthful countenance. She was dressed in a black peasant blouse and a matching broom skirt. A pair of black-framed glasses similar to Ronald’s—but smaller—sat on her face. Her hair was longer than he remembered, but it still darkened to black at the bottom like her son’s. Blond on the top layers and black on the bottom, it was a unique blend that he’d initially thought was contributed to dye. He should have considered genetics though. His own hair grew out black in one patch on the right side, only. People assumed he dyed that in as well, but that wasn’t the case. Ronald clearly took after his mother in coloring, but he had Eric’s smile and charm.

Her eyes met his, silently warning him not to say anything yet. Eric stood up and forced a smile, taking her hand to grip it in greeting. “Eric Slingby, senior officer of Dispatch. Pleasure tae meet ya, Miss Knox.”

Alan gave a little bow and offered his own hand. “Alan Humphries, Ma’am. I’m Eric’s partner.”

"That’s what the little turd here told me," she said with a wry, sidelong glance at her son. "Well, if I’d known Dispatch was full of such handsome gents, I might’ve tried joining, myself. Come along to the dining room so we can eat and jaw about ourselves. Ronnie, don’t just stand there; help me set the table so we can eat."

She swatted Ronald on the bum to get him moving, and he yelped and flushed. “Mum! Not in front o’ my mates! I’m too old for that, anyhow!”

"Never to old for a mother’s discipline, son," she warned him. "Now get y’ goin’. We need silverware on that table."

"Yes’m," he said contritely, hurrying past everyone to go and retrieve the items.

Eric—despite his misgivings—had to stifle the urge to chuckle. It was no wonder he was such a hit with the ladies. Charm aside, Beatrice had raised him to treat them with respect. He inwardly wondered how many Ronald had actually slept with so far, or if he’d bedded any of them at all. If it was all a cover for his infatuation with Spears as Alan believed, chances were he’d never lain with a single girl he’d dated.

 

* * *

 

"So Ronald tells me you’ve transferred permanently from Scotland, Mr. Slingby," Beatrice said conversationally as they began to eat. "When did this happen?"

Eric tensed a little, realizing she was digging to find out just when her son and his biological father crossed paths. “‘Bout two years ago,” he revealed. “Ronald was jus’ starting his apprenticeship wi’ Officer Sutcliff, at tha time.”

"Interesting." She sipped her lemonade, before cutting into her slice of roast. "And the two of you have taken him under your wing, since then."

Eric nodded. “O’ course. It was tha least I could do.” He was starting to feel angry.

_~I’d have had a bigger part in his life, if ye’d jus’ bothered tae tell me.~_

She picked up on his frustrated gaze, and she sighed, putting her silverware down. “I can’t do this.”

Ronald was obviously confused as he looked between his senior agents and his mother. He reached out to touch her shoulder. “Mum? You okay?”

Alan dabbed his lips with his napkin and looked down uncomfortably. “Please excuse me for a moment. I…need the loo again.”

Eric watched his partner go helplessly, knowing he didn’t need the loo at all, but understanding his need to extract himself from the conversation. With a sigh, he looked at Beatrice. “I think it’s time we end this farce, don’t you?”

She looked at Ronald with her heart in her eyes. “Yeah. Ronnie, y’ know I love you more than anything in creation, don’t ya?”

Ronald’s brows furrowed as he frowned. “Mum, you’re starting t’ worry me. What’s this all about?” He looked at the Scotsman. “Eric senpai?”

Eric tried to speak, but he couldn’t find the words. Gods, how did one tell his closest friend that he was actually his father? He shook his head and looked to Beatrice pleadingly. “I’ve go’ nothin’. I’m sorry.”

She sighed and waved it away. “This is more on me than you, anyhow. I can’t expect you t’ clear up the mess I made.”

"Okay, what the _hell’s_ goin’ on?” Ronald demanded, standing up to glare between the two of them. “You’ve both been acting weird since we sat down t’ eat, and I wanna know what’s up.”

Beatrice reached out and grabbed Ronald by the seat of his pants, yanking him down unceremoniously. “Sit down, boy. I’ve fucked up right proper, but I won’t have you flailing about like some halfwit.”

Ronald’s eyes bugged out a bit at his mother’s use of swear words, but he fell in line and sat down as instructed. “Yes’m. Just…just tell me what’s going on. You’re both freakin’ me out.”

She heaved a sigh and pushed her hair back from her forehead with both hands, as if fighting a headache. “Alright, here’s th’ thing; You know how I’ve told you that your father abandoned us, love?”

Ronald’s expression darkened, and he nodded. “Arsehole.”

Eric flinched, and Beatrice shot him an apologetic look, before going on. “Well, it wasn’t exactly true. The truth is that I never told the bloke I was carryin’ you, Ronnie. He never knew. I didn’t think he’d help, and I never gave him the chance t’ prove me wrong. That’s my fault, not his.”

Ronald went still, regarding his mother with wary interest. “So then who _is_ he?”

His eyes went to Eric, sweeping over him slowly, and an expression of reluctant, dawning comprehension crossed his face. He started to shake his head slowly. “Oh, no…don’t tell me…”

Eric nodded—and he was so stiff and tense that he could have sworn he could hear the tendons in his neck creak with the motion. “It’s me, Ronnie. I’m…I’m yer da. I figured it out tha night o’ yer graduation dance, when ya dropped yer wallet an’ I saw a picture of yer ma in it. I ne’er said anything, ‘cause I dinnae want tae ruin yer night, an’ I wanted tae be sure. I had ‘em take a paternity test behind yer back tae be sure.”

"It isn’t his fault," Beatrice cut in. "I never told him. I never expected t’ _see_ him again, and I sure as hell didn’t expect you t’ end up workin’ with him.”

Ronald stood up again, eyes blazing. “So _you’ve_ been lying t’ me my whole life,” he accused his mother—and then he turned to Eric. “And _you_ knew almost from the start, but you _kept_ it from me.”

Eric swallowed. “Like I said; I dinnae know how tae tell ya, Ronnie. I was in shock.”

"For _two bloody years_?” Ronald hollered it, and he ran his fingers through his two-toned hair. “It never crossed your mind to say: ‘Oh, by the way…I’m your dad’? You just slid in and started befriending me—”

"Tha’s no’ how it happened," protested Eric, but his voice lacked conviction.

“ _Bullshit_!” Ronald knocked his drink over, and he dragged in harsh breaths. He paced around in a small circle. “Fuck! My best mate’s my bloody father! I should have known! I knew something was funky ‘bout the way ya looked at Mum’s picture and grilled me about it, but…but…”

Beatrice started to get up to embrace him, but he held a hand out and shook his head. “No, stay away from me. Tell me how this happened. When did you two hook up?”

"He…I…it happened when he was visiting England on a temporary visa," explained Beatrice shakily. "He got hurt, and I took ‘im in t’ see to his injuries, son. One thing led to another and…well…you were the result."

She straightened up and sniffled. “I’m not sorry. I’ve got a precious son for it, and the only regret I have is my lies…”

Ronald scowled. “Your lies…ah, damn y’ both!”

"Now wait a minute," Eric called as the boy started to leave the dining area. "She was jus’ doin’ wha’ she thought was right by ya both—"

"I don’t wanna _hear_ it!” Ronald whirled around to glare at both of them. “M-my whole life I’ve been hating a guy that doesn’t even _exist_ , while my real father was right under my bleedin’ nose! Fuck off! I…I need fresh air…”

"Oi, dun’ talk tae yer ma tha’ way!" Eric sputtered the admonishment without even thinking, and then he shook his head. What the hell was the use? He had no right.

Ronald charged through the house and out the front door, while his parents stood there in the dining area, awash with guilt and self-blame.

"Well," sighed Beatrice. "That went over like a rutting bull in a china shop."

Eric huffed softly. “Aye. ‘M sorry I wasnae more help.”

She shook her head. “This is all _my_ fault, Eric. Should’a told him long ago.”

Alan came out of the bathroom then, having heard everything. He cleared his throat uncomfortably as he entered the dining area. “I really don’t know what to say,” he apologized. “Do you think it would…help…if I tried to speak with him?”

Eric shrugged. “Yeh can try, Alan. Dunno if he’ll listen, but he sure as spit isn’t goin’ tae hear anythin’ we try tae say ta him, right now.”

Alan nodded in understanding. “I’m really sorry, Miss Knox.”

She managed a smile for him and shook her gold-black head. “Don’t be. You’re a sweetheart. Just see if there’s anything y’ can do for our boy. Out of all of us, you’re probably the only one he doesn’t see as an enemy, now.”

Alan sighed. “We’ll see.”

 

* * *

 

Ronald sat on the bench on the front porch, with his hands clasped together almost in a prayer fist, rocking back and forth. He couldn’t believe it—and yet, it made sense. His best mate and his mother had a one-night-stand and he was the result of it.

"Ronald?"

The young reaper looked up at the soft, inquisitive voice. A part of him was glad to see Alan standing there. The man had a gentle wisdom about him, and he was close to Ron’s age.

"I dunno," sighed the blond. "I just…it’s too much! I can’t look at either of ‘em, right now."

Alan sat down beside him. “I understand. I’m so sorry. I can only imagine what this must feel like.”

Ronald sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I grew up hating my dad, thinking he just packed up and left mum and me. All my life, I’ve wanted t’ confront him…maybe sock him in the jaw and say: ‘That’s for fucking over Mum’. Now I just…I don’t have that hate. Can’t hate my best mate…’specially if he never even bloody knew I existed.”

Alan gently patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t be too harsh on your mother, Ronald. She never really got to know Eric, as you and I have. If she knew what sort of man he was, I’m sure it would have been different. She was scared and alone, and she was trying to protect you.”

"Make excuses for ‘em all you want," Ronald countered stubbornly, "but I deserved t’ know the _truth_. You knew it too, and you never said a thing.”

Alan nodded. “I did. Ronald, it really wasn’t my _place_ to say anything…but I’ve done my best to encourage Eric. I’m very sorry for my part in this deception.”

Ronald looked at him, sniffling again. He shook his head. “It’s cool. You got dragged into this ‘cause you’re his partner and his lover. I get that. I just…don’t know. This fucks up my whole life perspective, ya know?”

"I imagine it does." Alan’s tone was sympathetic and kind. "You need time to think on this."

Ronald nodded and wiped away angry tears. “Yeah. Time. Er…Alan sempai? I’m mad and all, but…can I like…confide in ya ‘till I figure out how to handle this?”

Alan smiled and gave him a brief, one-armed hug. “You _know_ you can, Ronnie. I promise, I’ll keep it between the two of us.”

Ronald hugged him back. “This sucks on so many levels…sorry ya got dragged into it.”

"It’s part of being with someone," reasoned the small brunet with a chuckle. "When you choose a partner, you’re also choosing all of their issues and mistakes. I’ve got plenty of my own."

Ronald snorted and released him. “Find that hard t’ believe. You’re almost as clingy to the rules as Spears.”

"You might be surprised," teased Alan.

Eric walked out the door then, and Ronald immediately stiffened. The Scotsman sighed and looked to his partner. “Guess we’d best get goin’. Ronnie, I—”

"Don’t," interrupted the younger reaper. "Not right now. I don’t want t’ hear anymore excuses. I just…want to be alone."

Eric compressed his lips and nodded. He held a hand out for his partner, and Alan got up and took it. As Eric formed the portal that would take them back home, Alan looked over his shoulder at Ronald to offer him one last piece of advice.

"Not many of us were born into this life, Ron. Most of us don’t _have_ parents on this side. Just think on that, will you?”

Ronald nodded, if only because he respected Alan’s opinion. “See ya at work tomorrow, I guess.”

With a regretful glance behind him at the young blond, Eric finished summoning the portal, and the couple stepped through to go home.

 

* * *

 

-To be continued   


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

"I feel bloody terrible."

Alan paused in the act of undressing for bed, and his features softened with sympathy. Eric was sitting on the edge of the bed with his shoulders slumped, unmoving. With a little sigh, the younger reaper climbed onto the bed and over to his partner. Standing on his knees, he embraced the blond from behind and kissed his shoulder.

"You did what you _had_ to do, Eric. Reapers live for a very long time, and chances are it was inevitable for Ronald to find out eventually. Coming clean with him at least makes you both honest. You weren’t the one who’s been actively lying to him his whole life, either.”

Eric shrugged. “But I’ve known fer o’er a year. Sure, it’d been stupid tae tell him tha moment I figured it out—especially before I go’ tha paternity test results…but I still should have said somethin’ after tha’. Should’ve called her tha moment I knew an’ arranged this sooner. Now I might lose mah son _an’_ a good friend.”

Alan shook his head. “I don’t think that will happen. Ronald needs some time to sort himself out after a shock like that, but I don’t think he’ll hold it against you for long.”

Eric turned his head to look at him. “Hope yer right ‘bout tha’. Feels like I jus’ shattered tha kid’s world.”

"You tore down an illusion and showed him the truth," insisted Alan. "He might not be grateful for that right now, but I’m betting he will be eventually. He knows who his father is now, and even if he’s feeling angry with you, he knows he likes you. From what I understand, not all sons get along with their fathers."

Eric heaved a sigh and nodded. “Jus’ need tae figure out how I should treat him, from now on. It’s too late tae start actin’ like a da now. That ship already sailed…but he’s no’ gonna see me th’ same way anymore. It’s gonna be awkward.”

"For a little while," agreed Alan with a nod. "You both need time to adjust and decide where to go from here. Just try not to over-think it right now, Eric. Let things sort themselves out between the two of you without trying to force anything, okay?"

Eric turned and embraced him. “I wish I had yer patience…or some kind o’ magic wand I could wave tae make it all better right away.”

Alan kissed him and took off both their glasses to set them on the bedside table. “At least you’ve gotten the hardest part over with. That’s one less burden on your shoulders. Now get undressed and lie down with me.”

He kissed his ear, then his neck. “Let me take your mind off of it for a while, so you can sleep.”

For a moment, he wasn’t sure Eric would be in the mood—but then the Scotsman’s mouth covered his in a kiss that was on the desperate side, and he combed his fingers through the loose parts of Eric’s wavy mane and kissed him back. What he needed right now was solace, and what better place to find that than in the arms of a lover?

Alan let the bigger man guide him onto his back, and he began to help Eric undress as his heavier frame pinned him to the bed. He didn’t protest the sudden aggression of his kisses, submitting to Eric—not only because it gave him a thrill, but because the blond so badly needed to feel like he was in control. He did gasp one soft complaint when one of the buttons of his shirt popped off from Eric’s rough treatment of his clothes, but Alan was rather used to losing buttons when things heated up between them, by now.

The brunet reached out blindly for the lamp and he dimmed it. The sound of heavy breathing, low moans and rustling sheets soon filled the shadowed bedroom.

* * *

 

"Yeah, I’m late, I know," snapped Ronald when he went to clock in the next day and found William already standing there, sipping a mug of steaming coffee. "Spare me th’ dirty looks and just gimme overtime or whatever, boss. I don’t even care."

William raised a dark brow at him, his elegantly attractive features expressing mild surprise. Ronald didn’t wait around for the admonishment that was sure to come; he punched in his time card and went straight to the elevators. All he wanted to do was get through the day without seeing or speaking to Slingby. He nearly ran into one of the janitors on the way, and he barked at the poor man to watch where the hell he was going. He got into the elevator car and jabbed the button for his department’s office floor. As the doors began to slide shut, he leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes.

He kept thinking of the way his mum tearfully begged him not to leave the night before, when he opened a portal that would take him downtown to his flat building. His eyes stung and he started to wipe at them. Even after all this, he couldn’t bear his mother’s tears. But _he_ wasn’t the one that should feel guilty. She’d lied to him his whole life…kept the truth about his dad from him.

Just as the elevator doors were about to seal, the tip of a familiar scythe shot through and stopped them. Ronald blinked as the doors opened again to admit his boss, and he flushed and tried to compose himself, averting his gaze.

William stepped into the elevator car with him, his piercing gaze flicking over him as he selected the executive office floor above Ronald’s stop. He took another sip of his coffee as the doors slid shut, and the elevator began its ascent.

"Care to explain to me just what in Hades that disrespectful outburst was all about, Knox?"

The blond gulped, feeling the weight of his actions and realizing that he might have just earned himself more than overtime as punishment. He couldn’t take it back, though. “Guess you’re gonna give me a pay-cut, now.”

"That would depend on the manner of your explanation," answered the older man. "If you conduct yourself with a measure of courtesy, I may decide to be lenient. Now, please answer my question."

Ronald sighed and shrugged, looking down at his shoes as he shuffled his feet absently. “I just found something out yesterday that…” He shook his head. “Don’t wanna talk about it, sir.”

William regarded him levelly. “Whether you care to elaborate or not, if it stands the risk of interfering with your job performance, you had better let me know now. I can’t have you out in the field if something is troubling you so much that you cannot pay attention to what you’re doing.”

Ronald shrugged. “I’ll be fine. I’m just cranky in th’ morning sometimes and I hardly slept at all last night.”

"So you’re telling me that you are not only troubled by some revelation, but you are also sleep deprived." William shook his head. "I think I’d better take you off the collecting list, for today."

Ronald finally looked at him, a little desperately. “Please sir…let me go out reaping, t’day. I promise I won’t mess up! I can’t just sit at the office all day long; I’ll think too much and I really need t’ take my mind off this.”

William reached out with his scythe and deftly poked the lift’s emergency stop button. Ronald staggered a little as the car came to a halt, and he grabbed onto the side-rails, staring at his boss with surprise.

"What’d y’ do that for?"

William’s eyes pinned him to the spot. He didn’t answer verbally, but his brows lifted slightly in an expectant manner. Ron cringed inwardly and scrubbed a hand through his feathered blond locks. “You’re not gonna let this go, are ya?”

William shook his head slowly and took another sip of his coffee. “I’m waiting, Mr. Knox,” he informed as he lowered the mug again.

Ronald sighed and threw his hands out to the sides. “Why? Why d’ya care _what_ my problem is? Does it really matter? Okay, I’m distracted. I get why that’s a concern. If y’ really don’t want me goin’ out on the field today, I won’t argue anymore.”

William kept staring at him.

"Uh…sir," added Ronald as an afterthought. Wow, he was really digging himself deep. Still, the supervisor’s gaze did not relent, and Ronald sighed and leaned back against the wall again, crossing his arms over his chest. "Right, then. Found out who my real dad is at dinner last night. Mum’s been keepin’ it from me for all this time, but she finally came clean with me out o’ the blue, right in the middle of dinner. Turns out my father’s living right here in reaper London. Right under my nose, and I had no fucking idea! She’s been letting me believe he abandoned us when I was a baby, but she never even told him she was pregnant with me! It was a one-night stand and I guess she decided he wouldn’t have been there for us even if she told him."

Ronald kicked at the side of the lift and swore again. “What’s worse; he’s known about me for about two years now, and he never said a bloody _thing_!  Er…sorry for th’ swearing, sir.”

The chill in William’s demanding gaze faded, and his stony expression softened, somewhat. “I see. And who might this estranged father be?”

At that moment, Ronald wanted more than anything to tell him…wanted to confide in this stoic, collected man even though he doubted William would favor him with much sympathy or comfort. He very nearly blurted out the name, but he clamped his mouth shut at the last minute and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I…I can’t think of him as my dad. He was never there, and the person I’d built up in my head over all this time doesn’t even exist. I can’t even _blame_ th’ bloke, really. If I found out eighteen or twenty years from now I had a son I was never told about, I wouldn’t know what t’ do, either. It’s just not fair, though. I wish I was still ignorant!”

The phone in the lift’s emergency panel began to ring, and William looked at Ronald as if he wanted to say something, before deciding to answer it. “Everything is fine,” he assured the maintenance person on the other end. “I stopped the lift because I could not find my keys, and I did not wish to have to take it all the way back down to the lobby floor. Yes, I’ve found them. I shall release the stop button and continue on, thanks.”

He hung up the phone and he looked at Ronald again. “Having no reaper parents of my own, I cannot fathom how you must be feeling. What I will say is that you need to understand your own limitations, Ronald Knox. It would be a shame to see such potential go to waste in a moment of recklessness. You know how dangerous our work can be.”

Ronald nodded, sulking a little. “I know, boss. Sorry for acting like a wanker.”

"At least you had a decent excuse for it," William granted. "I am afraid, however, that my earlier assessment still stands. I can’t send you on reaping assignments, in your current frame of mind. I’m even considering giving you the day off. It would be best for you to get some rest and come in tomorrow refreshed, and with a clearer head."

"Please don’t, sir," requested the blond. "I don’t want t’ go home. All I’ll end up doing is drinking m’self stupid, and then I’ll end up coming in with a hangover tomorrow."

"Have you so little self-control, Mr. Knox?" William looked him over. "If you believe you would drink the day away, what’s to say you won’t go straight to a pub after work and do the same thing this evening?"

"I…I don’t know," admitted Ronald, flushing. "Maybe I could hang out at Miss Sutcliff’s place after work…if Grell even bothers showin’ up today."

"Ronald, if you fear this could lead to a drinking problem, then perhaps you should see counseling. You certainly can’t rely on Sutcliff to watch over you. That idiot cannot even be relied on to do his job as your partner, these days. The time for mentorship is over, but he still has a responsibility to you as your senior to assist with your reapings—and he’s been slacking on that, of late. I have even implemented a pay cut, but I have yet to see an improvement in his performance. Do _not_ put your well-being in his hands.”

Ronald was briefly stunned by the way William addressed him by his first name. Not “Knox”, not “Mr. Knox”, and not his full name, as he usually did. He couldn’t recall the man ever addressing him so informally before, and it made him wonder if maybe…just maybe…he might care a little.

"Do you understand what I’m saying?" pressed William.

Ronald nodded. “Yessir. I understand. I don’t need counseling, though. I need a friend.”

"Then perhaps you ought to look to Slingby and Humphries," suggested the brunet as he depressed the stop button again to get the lift going. He adjusted his glasses and stepped back. "You do have a rapport with them, after all."

Ronald compressed his lips, his anger bubbling to the surface again. Not wanting to give anything away, he thought up an excuse to nix that idea. “I’m pretty sure they’ve already got plans for tonight and I don’t want t’ get in the way. I’ll manage, sir. Just don’t send me home, okay? Even paperwork is better than sitting there alone, thinkin’ about all this.”

"Very well, then. We shall see how the day goes. I warn you though, Mr. Knox; if I notice you slipping, I’ll have little choice but to intervene."

Ronald heaved a sigh. There was that formality again. He _did_ feel a little better after getting some of it off his chest, though. Spears might not be the most sympathetic ear around, but at least he gave a toss enough to ask about it and express some concern—even if it was only on a professional level.

"Thanks, boss."

* * *

 

William himself couldn’t say exactly what prompted him to take such an interest in Ronald Knox’s personal problems. It wasn’t like him at all to get involved in his employee’s affairs, unless they were having a notable effect on their work performance. He’d thought that was all there was to it; but he usually wasn’t one to dig. He pondered this as he unlocked his office and entered it to begin the day’s work. Monitoring Sutcliff’s odd behavior was one thing; he knew from experience that the crimson reaper was a volatile creature, with little to no compunctions or conscience. Grell needed to be kept in check at all times, for the good of the department. Ronald—however prone he might be to late arrivals and slacking with his paperwork—was not a borderline sociopath.

Then there was that odd feeling he got, when he saw how close Knox had come to tears. He was young and given to the emotions of youth, granted, but it had an effect on William that troubled him. He’d come close to ordering him to stop being so upset; which was of course ridiculous. One couldn’t order an employee not to feel a certain way, simply because it made one uncomfortable to witness the emotion.

"I wonder," he mused, sitting down at his desk and setting his mug on the coaster. He’d even felt a stirring of anger on Ronald’s behalf, once the boy explained what had him so upset. It was a baseless sort of anger, without true direction. It certainly wasn’t his place to feel angry with Knox’s mother, but the situation itself made him…frustrated. The young man was clearly hurting inside, and William couldn’t do anything about it.

Sentiment. That was the problem. He’d learn to banish that particular emotion long ago, after an encounter with it during a reaping assignment nearly cost him his life. He wasn’t expecting for it to creep up on him again with little to no warning. He supposed he could excuse it on Ronald’s endearing nature. People tended to enjoy Knox’s company, and William admitted to himself that he was no exception.

With a sigh of disapproval at what he considered a weakness, the Dispatch supervisor forced his attention away from Ronald Knox, and he began to spread out the assignments meant for him amongst the other agents. Pity though it was to add more to their work load, he found it a more prudent measure than to allow Ronald to go reaping today—even if William himself were to partner up with him for safety.

* * *

 

On his way to the office he shared with Grell, Ronald spotted Eric in the hallway, talking to another Dispatch agent. Their eyes met across the distance and the Scotsman impulsively started to smile and wave, only to sober quickly when Ronald pointedly looked away and ignored him. He wasn’t ready to speak to him yet, and it irked him to see him trying to act like nothing had changed. Maybe it was just reflexive on Eric’s part, but Ronald couldn’t help but find it insulting.

~You’re not really my friend. Never were. Only reason y’ even got close t’ me was ‘cause you knew I was your kid.~

At least, that was how Ronald saw it. He glanced at Eric once as he passed by, and he tried not to let the hurt look in the older man’s eyes get to him. He didn’t have the right to have hurt feelings. Even though he’d never been told he had a kid, he found out on his own and he chose not to inform Ronald right away. As he unlocked the office and went inside, he shut and locked the door behind him and began to mutter to himself.

"Mum lied t’ me. Eric lied t’ me. Grell’s out doing who knows what and keepin’ shit from me, and Spears is thinking of cutting my hours…maybe even sending me t’ counseling whether I wanna go or not."

He huffed a sigh and plopped down at Grell’s desk, kicking back in the cushy office chair as he tried to map out his day. Of course, he couldn’t really get started ‘till he actually _got_ some paperwork to organize. He kept thinking about his problems, and he snorted.

"Whole bloody world’s full o’ liars and plotters. Can’t I trust _any_ of my elders?”

Well, there _was_ Alan. He couldn’t rightly put any blame on him in this situation. Humphries just got dragged into it, and Ronald did understand that it wasn’t his place to come to him and tell him. Trouble was, he couldn’t talk to Alan without it getting back to Eric. The only person he could really talk to was the boss, and he knew Spears didn’t want to get involved in other people’s problems unless he absolutely had to. Besides, Will had enough on his plate, without Ronald trying to cling to him like some sad little waif begging for crumbs of affection.

"This sucks," complained Ronald, laying his head in his arms on top of the desk.

Before he knew it, he fell asleep.

* * *

 

William walked into Grell’s office with a stack of paperwork for Ronald—and he promptly sighed in annoyance when he found the boy asleep at the desk. He crossed the floor and he reached out with the intention of shaking him awake; but then Ronald mumbled something in a quivering voice in his sleep that gave the supervisor pause.

"Why didn’t y’ tell me, Eric?"

A tear trickled from the corner of his eye to roll down the side of his nose, landing on his topmost folded arm.

"Slingby?" mouthed William, brows drawing down. He stared down at the young man, and he thought of his charming, dimpled smiles, his playful demeanor and the ease at which he attracted the opposite sex. Then there was the hair. While it stood to reason that Ronald could have inherited the two-toned coloring from his mother, Eric Slingby also had a blend of blond and black in his hair. The pattern wasn’t the same, but the shade was just about identical.

"Well, it’s no wonder you wished to get out in the field so desperately," murmured William. Suddenly Ronald’s excuse for not turning to Eric and Alan in his time of need rang hollow, as the truth dawned on William. Sitting around the office where he stood to run into Eric every time he stepped out the door couldn’t possibly be helping his emotional situation…but it made the brunet wonder why he even insisted on coming into work. Would it not have been better to stay home and distance himself from the office, and therefore Slingby?

He waited for the surprise to sink in, and it never did. It made so much sense that the Scottish reaper once known for playing the field managed to hook up with Miss Knox at some point in the past and left her in a family way. As he recalled, Eric had come over from Scotland a few times during his career to assist London Dispatch in times of severe staff shortage. Will recalled reading about at least two such times in Slingby’s personal records, before he finally transferred and took on Alan as his apprentice.

William looked down at the stack of paperwork tucked under his arm, then back at Ronald. Some impulse made him change his action from shaking the boy awake to simply laying his hand on his shoulder. He took it a step further and brushed the back of his knuckles over the sleeping agent’s smooth cheek.

That oddly protective feeling arose within him again, followed by the urge to press his lips against Ronald’s parted ones. William shook himself out of it, brutally criticizing his own silly, romantic notions inwardly.

With a little sigh, he let Ronald be and he quietly walked out of the office, taking the paperwork he’d intended for Knox with him.

* * *

 

"Slingby, I have additional paperwork for you that I wish to see completed and on my desk by five o’clock, sharp."

The Scotsman’s brows shot up as William briskly dropped the thick pile onto his desk with a thump. The man hadn’t even announced himself before letting himself into his and Alan’s office, and even though he was their superior, he usually knocked politely before coming in.

"Er…a’right. Tha’s a lot o’ files though, boss. I’ll do mah best, but I’ve already go’ a small mountain of ‘em tae process, so I might no’—"

"I want results, not excuses," interrupted William coolly, drawing a curious look from Alan.

"I can help," offered the brunet softly. "Don’t worry sir, we’ll have it done for you."

William shook his head. “We are backed up on collections to gather today, Mr. Humphries. I need you out in the field. Your partner can handle the paperwork.”

Alan blinked, looking to his partner with the same confusion Eric was feeling. “Sir, with all due respect, wouldn’t it be better to leave the reaping to Eric and allow _me_ to handle the paperwork? Our skill sets being what they are, I think both would be accomplished more quickly if the roles were reversed.”

Eric nodded. Alan was a skilled reaper without a doubt, but of the two of them, he was much better with the paperwork, and Eric in turn was the stronger fighter when it came down to any confrontations with demons and other hindrances.

"These reaping assignments require tact, not brute strength," clarified William, handing over Alan’s collection book for the day; and with it, the death list he would need. "I have made my decision and you have your orders, gentlemen. Good day."

They both stared after him as he exited their office without another word.

"He knows I hate paperwork," muttered Eric, "an’ he knows I can be on tha sloppy side wi’ it, compared tae you."

Alan looked at his companion suspiciously. “What did you do _this_ time, Eric?”

"Nothin’!" protested the blond with a helpless shrug. "I dinnae do a thing tae piss th’ boss off…did I?"

He scratched the beard growth on his chin in thought, racking his brain for anything he might have done. He’d been arriving at work on time each day, completed and catalogued his collections in a timely manner, and his reports—as far as he knew—were accurately filled out and handed in at the end of the day.

"Well, something has him hot under the collar," sighed Alan.

"Maybe I’m no’ tha one he’s annoyed wi’," suggested Eric. When Alan gave him a dry look, he sighed. "Right. If it’s between you and me, then I’m prolly tha most likely suspect. I jus’ dunno wha’ th’ hell I could’ve done tae set him off."

Alan shrugged and looked over the death list given to him. “Maybe it’s not either of us. With Grell out of the queue of active collection agents and the new trainees coming in, Mr. Spears is probably just stressed. He may not be thinking clearly and he could simply be too busy to bother with his usual etiquette.”

"Wull, if he wants things done quickly, he should’ve reversed our assignments," grumbled Eric. "Hard tae tell when th’ man’s actually angry, though. I’ve never met a reaper tha’s harder tae read than Spears."

Alan sighed. “Sitting around theorizing over it won’t do us any good.” He tucked away his book and got up, summoning his scythe. “I’d better get going. My first reap of the day is scheduled in under an hour. I wonder if Grell has made any headway in this investigation he’s on, or if he’s just goofing off somewhere.”

"No tellin’ wi’ tha’ one." Eric got up as well to give Alan a little kiss. "Watch yerself ou’ there, Al. Been a while since either of us went out reapin’ alone."

"I’ll be careful," promised the smaller man. "Just try not to be too distracted by what happened yesterday, and don’t give Spears any excuse to give you overtime. I would like for both of us to clock out on time tonight and go home together."

"I’ll do mah best. Er…Alan, if ya happen tae run into Knox…would ye jus’ ask how he’s doing? He might talk tae you. Kid won’t even look at me, now."

Alan’s eyes softened in sympathy. “Of course, love. I’ll see you later this afternoon.”

* * *

 

While Alan was out gathering his assigned collections, a very peculiar thing happened. He’d just finished gathering the records of a man who died of a heart attack, and on his way to the next mark he heard a woman’s voice call out one of his associate’s name.

"Grell, honestly! Have you learned _nothing_ from my nephew’s butler?”

"So sorry, Madame!" responded a timid, apologetic voice. "I shall clean up the mess right away!"

Alan stopped in his tracks and looked across the street. The name “Grell” certainly was no common mortal given name—at least not in these parts. The brunet watched as a lean man in a butler suit bent over a suitcase that had come undone as he’d tried to unload it from the carriage, spilling its contents all over the street. The man wore round glasses and he wore his long brown hair in a ponytail, tied back with a red ribbon. He hastily began to scoop up the various clothing articles that had spilled out of the case, still apologizing profusely to his mistress as he stuffed them back into the container.

The woman addressing him wore a flattering, elegant dress of all red, with a wide-brimmed dress hat of the same color, a lacy white scarf and white gloves. Her hair was cut in an unusual style that defied current London fashion on this plane; a bob-style with the bangs trimmed in a v shape. Like her dress, her hair was bright red, and it reminded Alan of the coworker whose name he could have sworn she’d just called. She stood there tapping her foot, her garnet colored eyes flashing with annoyance as her butler hastened to rectify his mistake.

Alan studied the man carefully. He wasn’t the Grell he knew, so maybe she was addressing him by his surname…or he was one of the few mortals in London to have that as a given name. There was something off about him though, and the reaper couldn’t quite decide what it was. Maybe it was his manner of speaking, or the way he moved. It was almost as if he was very uncomfortable in his own skin.

Alan started to shrug it off and move on. He’d seen many a clumsy mortal before. Hearing him addressed by the name of one of his colleagues was a bit jarring, but he reasoned it was just a coincidence. As he started to look away and keep walking, the butler straightened up and looked straight at him. Alan paused.

_~I’m cloaked from mortal vision. He couldn’t possibly see me…~_

But the butler’s hazel eyes widened for just a moment behind the round, wire frames of his glasses. Seconds later, they passed over Alan, looking at a point behind his shoulder before glancing away. The butler finished re-packing the luggage and he carried it into the launder behind his mistress, never looking back.

"That was strange," whispered Alan to himself. It was unsettling, too. He could have sworn the man had seen him, but mortals generally had to be close to death in order to see through the veil that reapers cloaked themselves in while on the job. It allowed them to move about freely in the human world and gather souls without human interference. Witches, shamans and the like were usually an exception to the rule, however.

Perhaps the lady in red’s butler was a dabbler in magic, then? Or he could be a descendant of such people and inherited a touch of witch sight from them. He certainly didn’t look like anything special to Alan, but there was definitely something odd about him.

Trying to put the strange not-quite-encounter out of his mind, Alan moved on. He made a mental note to call up Grell and tell him about the strange butler bearing his name, later on.

* * *

 

"Well, aren’t you just the picture of precious. Now get out of my chair, Knoxie-dear."

Ronald came awake with a snort, and he wiped drool from his lips as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Senpai? That you?”

There was a sigh. “Of _course_ it’s me, silly boy. I’ve come to take you out on your reap assignments. Goodness, Ronald—it’s past three in the afternoon and here you are, napping away. I think you may suffer a vitamin deficiency.”

Ronald righted his glasses and he checked his watch, covering up a yawn with his free hand. “Holy…how’d I sleep so long? The boss was s’posed t’ bring me paperwork to take care of, ‘cause he doesn’t want me going out in the field today.”

Grell clucked his tongue. “Whyever would he want to keep you from reaping? _He’s_ the one always complaining about how short staffed we are, and he threatened to give me another pay cut if I failed to babysit you today!”

Ronald shrugged and stretched. “I’ve got some things going on, and I didn’t get much sleep last night. Shit, I hope he didn’t come in here and see me napping…”

But it made no sense. Spears surely would have come by with the paperwork, so why didn’t he wake him? Or maybe he _did_ wake him and Ronald just didn’t remember it and went back to sleep. The blond looked around with a sense of panic, but he saw no unfinished paperwork on the desk.

"Okay, this is so weird," he muttered.

Grell checked his pocket watch impatiently. “Well, what’s it going to be, Ronald? Are we going to go reaping or not?”

"Already told ya," yawned Knox, "Spears divvied out my assignments for the day between other field agents. Damn, I don’t even know what I’m doing here, now. I’m kind of scared to stick my head out the door."

"Well, I still _do_ have assignments to collect,” reminded Grell. “Come along with me. I’ll get it finished twice as fast with your assistance, and then we can both move on to more interesting things.”

"B-but Mr. Spears said—"

"Bah, forget him." Grell waved a negligent hand in the air, and Ronald noticed something between the gap of his glove and his sleeve.

"Is that blood on your arm?"

Grell frowned. “Pardon?”

Ron pointed. On your left arm, there. Did ya cut yourself or something, or have you already done some reaping?”

Grell held up his arm and tugged the sleeve down to look. “Oh, so there is. My, that’s careless of me. I must have gotten some on me when I paid a visit to the mortuary.”

Ronald’s brow crinkled. “What were ya doing at the mortuary?”

Grell sighed. “Questioning the loony old bat that lives there, that’s what! I _am_ charged with investigating all the latest murders, after all. He’s been autopsying the bodies of the victims of the man they’ve now begun to call ‘Jack the Ripper’. I was there undercover, of course, attempting to find out exactly what he knows—if anything. He’s a strange fellow, that’s for sure. He sways like he’s in his cups all the time and giggles like some halfwit. Spooky bastard. Personally, I think he’s deranged.”

"Well, I guess in his line of work, he’s got a right t’ be."

Grell tilted his head and smiled down at him. “Do you, Ronnie? Just imagine one of _us_ acting that way. We would surely be institutionalized!”

Ronald shrugged. “Human minds don’t work quite like ours. They snap more easily.”

Grell chuckled. “Mm, yes. The human mind is a fragile thing, indeed. I can’t decide which is more breakable; their minds, or their bodies.” He rubbed his gloved hands together and looked at Ronald expectantly. “So, are you going to just sit here until the day ends, or are you going to go out reaping with me?”

The blond bit his lip uncertainly. He supposed there wasn’t any harm in just _assisting_ his mentor. “All right, but if the boss comes down on our heads, I expect you t’ take the blame.”

"Fair enough."

* * *

 

They ended up reaping yet another victim of the Ripper—or at least, Ronald assumed she was, because the pattern fit. She was a harlot, with brown hair and rather plain features. Her womb had been removed and her throat slashed. They located her cooling body in one of the alleys between buildings in one of the shadier parts of London.

"Looks like she was just recently killed," observed Ronald as Grell began to collect her records. "So that means it happened right in broad daylight. Weren’t the others killed at night?"

"Mm-hmm," agreed the crimson reaper. He seemed distracted. "Daylight offered no protection to her. You know, the killer has been sending letters to Scotland Yard."

Grell giggled, his eyes fixated on the images of the woman’s last moments of life. He shifted his position a bit, blocking them from Ronald’s view. “He’s making a complete fool of them. They honestly have no idea who’s behind it all. Why, for all they know, it could be more than one person.”

Ronald frowned, leaning back against the wall. He felt dampness seeping into his clothes and he pushed away from the wall to feel his back. His hand came away stained with red, and he turned to look at the brick wall.

"Shit, it’s like they just filled up a bucket of it and splashed it all over the wall!"

Grell glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes took on a strangely dreamy look as they scanned the wall Ronald had just been leaning against. “I suppose it is. Someone likes to make a mess, don’t they?”

He finished gathering the records and he clucked his tongue as Ronald stood helplessly, holding his bloodied hand out with a grimace because he was reluctant to wipe it on his pants and stain his clothing more.

"Oh, Ronnie…here." Grell reached into his breast pocket and procured a handkerchief from it. He extended it in offering to the younger reaper. "One of the benefits of working with a lady is that we always come prepared. Go ahead and wipe your hand off. You’ll likely have to send that jacket to the dry cleaners, as soon as possible."

Ronald took the handkerchief and did his best to wipe away the blood on his hand. He glanced at Grell again and he noticed the way he was swaying on his feet, humming to himself as he stared at the bloody corpse. A shiver raced up his spine as he thought on the earlier conversation they’d had concerning humans, reapers and madness.

"Miss Sutcliff…are ya feeling okay?" he asked hesitantly, using the respectful pronoun he knew Grell preferred. The redhead had a really odd look in his eyes. When he got no immediate answer, Ronald approached and gently nudged his mentor. "Grell?"

The redhead gave a little start. “Hmm?”

His eyes were dilated as if drugged. “I’m starting to worry about you,” Ronald said truthfully. “Is something going on? Ya didn’t sniff some weird chemicals while you were at the mortuary, did you?”

Grell blinked, and he seemed to come out of whatever reverie he was in. “Oh, don’t be silly, darling. I’m perfectly fine! Now then, let’s move on to the next name on the list, shall we? You should be thankful that you haven’t begun to get assigned night shifts, yet. I swear, that man is such a taskmaster! You’ll get to go home at five and do whatever you like, but I must clock back in after a few hours and reap more targets.”

Ronald shrugged. He knew they rotated night shifts between senior officers, and some were placed on call to take up their scythes and conduct last minute reaps. Grell usually took Mondays and Wednesdays, Eric and Alan took Tuesdays and Thursdays, and Friday and the weekend were rotated between a couple of other officers, depending on who was available. William took shifts when others weren’t available to, or when the death toll was so high they needed the extra hand.

"I’m sure I’ll be working nights before too long," he sighed with out much enthusiasm. That was one part of gaining rank that he wasn’t really looking forward to. It was going to cut down on his party time, but he supposed two or three nights a week wasn’t really that bad. "Who do ya work with on your night shifts, Senpai? Or do ya just go out solo?"

"I work alone at night," answered Grell with a shrug as they began to walk out of the alley. "I dislike my choices of graveyard shift partners, so I prefer to go it alone."

"Run into many demons?" Ronald himself had only ever had two run-ins with hellspawn; and he supposed it was because they were less active during the day.

A faint smile curved Grell’s lips. “Oh, I’ve crossed paths with one or two, lately. Nothing has come of it…yet.”

The statement confused the blond. “So they ran off before y’ could fight ‘em?”

"Let’s just say that I’ve been biding my time for the perfect moment, darling. You might be surprised to know that some demons call London their home. When they are under a contract with a human, they’re harmless to our mission. They fatten their intended meal’s soul up, you see, and they generally abstain from feeding on other victims in the meantime. Well, not _all_ of them do, but the one I saw was.”

"Why not just kill him and be done with it?" asked Ronald. He jogged a little to catch up with Grell as the redhead crossed the street.

Grell sighed. “Because we aren’t permitted to interfere with Faustian contracts, Ronnie. Do you _ever_ pay attention? I thought they taught these things in the academy!”

Ronald shrugged. “Yeah, but they never explained _why_. That’s why I’m askin’. I mean, if we know they’re gonna make a snack out of souls we ought t’ be collecting soon as they’ve munched down on their contract, why wait?”

"Oh, I don’t know." Grell shrugged. "Some foolish treaty between our kind and theirs. However, if a contracted demon ever attacks you or interferes with your mission, you are perfectly allowed to reap it."

Ronald nodded. “So this ‘Ripper’ thing…do ya have any theories yet?”

Grell smiled. “I have several, darling. I suppose we’ll just have to see which one proves correct, hmm?”

Ronald avoided a puddle, loathe to risk any damage to his good shoes. “Well, let me know if ya find anything. If we’ve gotta deal with ‘em, I want t’ be at your side.”

Grell looked at him sidelong. “I shall keep that in mind, darling.”

* * *

 

-To be continued 


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

After a few days, Ronald calmed his thoughts enough to come to a decision. He went to Eric and Alan’s office as soon as the workday started, and he took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

"Come in," called Alan’s voice.

Ronald opened the door and poked his head in. “Er…morning. Mr. Humphries, could I talk t’ your partner for a minute?”

Alan was just straightening some paperwork at his desk, and he glanced over at Eric. The Scotsman had a hopeful expression on his face as he looked up at Ronald. Alan smiled and got up from his chair. “Of course, Ronald. I’ll just go and get our coffee while you two talk. And please, just call me Alan, unless we’re in a formal situation.”

"Thanks. It shouldn’t take long for me t’ say what’s on my mind."

Alan patted him on the shoulder in passing, offering silent encouragement to him. Casting one last glance at his partner, he closed the door behind him and left them alone to speak. Eric cleared his throat and put his pen aside, gesturing at the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

"Want a seat, Ronnie?"

Ronald shook his head. “I’m too wired t’ sit down right now.” He paced in a circle and he tried to collect his thoughts. Then he walked over to the seat and plopped down on it, despite his earlier proclamation. He sighed deeply and he combed his fingers through his hair, before looking the older reaper.

"Right, here’s the thing: I can’t think of ya as my father."

Eric grimaced a little and took his blue-tinted glasses off to wipe absently at the lenses. “Figured as much.”

Ronald felt bad, and that made him angry. _He_ wasn’t the bad guy here. Then again, neither was Eric. “Look, I’ve only ever known you as my friend and coworker,” he tried to explain, “and I’ve spent my whole life imagining my Dad t’ be something else. Now I’ve gotta let go of that. It’s a lot of resentment to hang onto, ya know?”

Eric put his glasses back on and nodded. “I understand tha’, Ronnie. Wish I could do somethin’ tae make it all better, but…” He trailed off and shook his head with a sigh. “When I figured it out, I was fit tae be tied. Damned near had a breakdown. Al calmed me down, but I must’ve rehearsed abou’ a hundred different ways tae tell ya since then. Ya deserved tae know tha truth, an’ I cannae blame ya fer bein’ mad at me fer keepin’ it tae myself fer this long.”

Ronald shrugged and got up again, walking over to the window and sticking his hands into his pockets. “I’m not really mad at ya. Doesn’t make much sense for me t’ be, right? Mum kept it from both of us, and it couldn’t have been easy for ya. I mean, if it were me, I don’t think I’d have done much better. I just…is it bad that I wish things could just go back t’ the way they were?”

He turned around to look at the taller man, and his emotions rose to the surface again. “You’re my best mate, Eric. I don’t want to lose that, even if I can’t think of you as my Dad. Could we…just go back to that? Please? I know we can’t just forget about the truth, but let’s face it; we’ve never known each other as father and son.”

Eric considered that for a moment, before slowly nodding. “If that’s wha’ ya need, Ronnie. I’ll be happy as long as I can have some kind of relationship wi’ yeh. I miss ya, kid.”

Ronald faltered a bit at that, his stomach clenching. He bit his lip and shuffled his feet. “I miss you too. Just tell me something; did ya befriend me just ‘cause you knew I was your kid?”

Eric shook his head. “No. It might have played a part in it, tae be honest wi’ yeh. Dun’ hold tha’ against me, Ronnie. Whether I was there or no’, I’m still yer da’ by blood. It’s a natural thing, tae want tae take care o’ yer own offspring. I know I wasnae there fer ya when ya were growing up, but tha’ didn’t stop me from takin’ an interest in yer well-being, once I found out that truth behind our connection. Maybe some day ye’ll have a son or daughter o’ yer own an’ ye’ll understand.”

Ronald snorted. “Yeah…I don’t see that happening.”

He hesitated, looking at the older reaper uncertainly. He wasn’t “out” yet. He’d never outright told anyone the truth. He wanted to believe that if there were any reaper he could talk to about it, Eric would be it. Who else but his own flesh and blood—who happened to also be his best friend?

"E-Eric," stammered Ronald, "I know I date a lot of girls, but the truth is I’m only into guys. I mean, when it comes t’ sex."

The Scotsman shrugged. “Thought as much.”

Ronald’s eyes widened. “How? What gave me away?”

"Tha way ya try so hard tae make it look o’erwise, fer one," explained Eric, "an’ I’ve ne’er seen ya make out wi’ any of th’ lasses yeh date."

"How could ya be so sure I’m not just trying t’ be a gentleman?" persisted Ronald. "Maybe I don’t want to make a public spectacle."

Eric snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve ne’er known yeh tae be concerned wi’ whether or not ya make a spectacle, Ronnie. Alan and I’ve also noticed some other things, too.”

"Yeah? Like what?" Ronald watched him warily, bracing himself.

The Scotsman looked up at him and he uncrossed his arms. Drumming his fingers on the surface of his desk, he appeared to think about what he intended to say next very carefully. “Ron, do yeh happen tae have an interest in th’ boss tha’ goes further than professional respect?”

Ronald’s eyes widened again. “Wh-what makes ya say that?”

The older man shrugged and got out of his chair, pacing absently behind his desk. “Reactions like tha’, fer one thing. Fer ano’er, there’s a quality about tha way yeh interact wi’ Spears tha’ caught my attention. Alan noticed it first, tae be fair. He’s always been a wee bit more observant than me, though.”

Ronald opened his mouth to deny it, but then he thought of how much he’d just been wishing he could confide in Eric. This could be just the test he needed, to figure out if he could still come to the man with his troubles or not. He sighed and looked down at his shoes with a reluctant nod.

"Yeah, okay? I’ve got the hotts for our boss. I really tried not t’ let it get to me. Been trying to keep my mind off it with dates and such, but…well, every time I’m around the suave bastard I get dry-mouthed and fidgety. I could talk a girl’s bra right off her chest if I wanted to, but Will makes me…makes me feel like…"

"Like yer fallin’ off a cliff?" suggested Eric, turning to smirk at him knowingly. "Or like there’s no’ enough air tae breathe?"

Ronald nodded and swallowed. “I don’t understand it. I’ve never felt like this for anyone before. I keep hoping it’ll go away, like maybe it’s just a phase I’m going through. People get crushes all the time, right?”

Eric sighed and walked over to him. Hesitating only for a moment, he laid his hands on Ronald’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze as he gazed soberly into his eyes. “I don’t think wha’ ye’ve go’ here is a ‘crush’, Ronnie. I’ve been where yeh are now, an’ if it’s anything like it was fer me, it’s no’ likely tae jus’ ‘go away’. Does nae work tha’ way, lad.”

Ronald frowned at him. “It might. Maybe it’s just a really _strong_ crush.”

Eric laughed. “Think so? Tell me this, then; has it eased up any at all since it first started?”

Ronald grimaced and looked away. “Nope. It just keeps getting…stronger. I can hardly be around him without fantasizing about…well, ya know where I’m going with this.”

Eric grimaced himself and released Ron’s shoulders. “Yeah, I know where yer goin’ wi’ tha’. I wish I knew wha’ tae tell ya, kid. I dun’ want tae see ya get hurt, but truth be told, I think ya could do a lo’ worse than tha boss.”

"Yeah?" Ronald managed a smile. "Think I’d ever have a chance with him? Hell, maybe if I just banged him the sexual tension would go away and I could stop feeling like this."

Eric coughed into his hand, waiting for the awkward feeling that should have come with his son announcing such a thing to him. It didn’t happen though, because just as Ronald said; it didn’t feel like a father and son relationship. It just felt like his young friend confiding in him, as he’d always done since they grew close.

"Maybe," he allowed doubtfully. "I can tell yeh tha’ ne’er happened wi’ Alan and meself, though. Once I had him, I could nae get enough of him. Our first time only brought us closer."

Ronald closed his eyes and groaned. “Then what th’ hell do I do? I don’t know how much longer I can keep going like this, Eric! Even just smelling his cologne sets me off. Do ya know what it’s like t’ have to go to the loo and beat off every time I get around him, just so he won’t notice what he does t’ me?”

Now Eric was starting to feel a hint of that awkwardness he’d been bracing for. He cleared his throat and looked out the window. He could relate on some level, though he was much more mature when he found the love of his life and thus had a little more control over his bodily functions. He hadn’t forgotten what it was like to be Ronald’s age though, when all it took was a breeze to get a hard-on.

"Wull, tha’s…there are some things ya could try. Take care o’ yerself before ya head ou’ fer work in tha mornings, put some ice in a baggy and stick it down yer pants, tha’ sort of thing."

He nearly suggested drinking, and he groaned inwardly. What the hell sort of father advised his boy to drink on the job?

"Ice down my pants?" Ronald’s brow crinkled. "Doesn’t sound too comfortable."

"I’m no’ suggestin’ ya wear it around all day," chuckled Eric. "Jus’ keep some handy at yer desk an’ take it tae th’ lavvy wi’ ya when it’s needed."

The blond sighed. “Guess it’s better than running around with a boner every time th’ boss comes around.”

"Those are jus’ a few things yeh can try," encouraged Eric. "Otherwise, ya could try avoiding contact wi’ Spears…or ya could make a pass at him an’ find out if he’s interested."

Ronald smirked. “So now you’re encouraging me to hit on my boss? Really?”

Eric grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest. “I cannae say I like this, but nor can I start tryin’ tae act like yer father. Seems tha’ chance is gone, so I’ll try tae jus’ be yer friend, as requested. I’m no’ sayin’ there aren’t some complications wi’ office relationships—especially when it comes tae yer superior—but maybe it’d be better tae get some closure if yeh can. It’d be better than sitting ‘round wonderin’ all tha time, wouldn’t it?”

Ronald’s heart predictably picked up the pace as he thought on that. “Well yeah, but…what if he flips out? I mean, how would I approach him?”

Eric grinned crookedly at him. “Yeh average three separate dates every Saturday night an’ yea cannae figure out how tae approach one man?”

Ronald shrugged and bit his lip. “That’s girls, though. There’s no pressure there ‘cause I’m not expecting anything, you know? I’m not trying t’ get down their pants, and they aren’t my boss. And what if William isn’t into guys at all…let alone me?”

"Then at least ye’d know," reasoned Eric. "No more guessing. It might hurt, but it’d let ya move on, at least."

Ronald started to pace. Could he do it? Could he actually walk up to his sexy, proper, stoic supervisor and just…tell him how he felt? He looked at Eric again, his mind now completely off their blood ties to each other for the first time since he found out the truth. “How did it happen with you and Alan? Did ya just tell him you wanted him? I can’t imagine him being the one t’ make the first move.”

Eric chuckled. “Actually, yeh could say we _both_ made tha first move. I was trying tae teach him a few phrases in Gaelic and next thing I knew, we were kissing.”

For some reason, Ronald could mentally picture the moment clearly. Rather than disturb him as he would have expected, it made him smile. “Wow. Just…wow. Did ya go for it right away?”

Eric shook his head. “Nah, we held off ‘till he graduated. Dinnae want tae cause any friction with his training, seein’ as I was his instructor at tha time. Once he was finished with tha’ and on tha payroll as an official agent, there was nothin’ tae hold us back.”

Ronald nodded in understanding. “Must have been hard to wait. I never would have pictured you as the kind of guy that would hold back that way.”

"Aye, it was rough," agreed the Scotsman, "fer both of us, but it was worth tha wait, in tha end. So, do ya think yeh might take my advice an’ speak up tae yer crush, or will ya keep on wondering an’ torturing yerself?"

The younger reaper bit his lip uncertainly. “I…I want to know if I’ve even got a chance in Hell with him, but I’m scared. He could _fire_ me if he gets offended.”

Eric shook his head. “Will’s no’ tha’ hot tempered, lad. If he was gonna can anyone, it’d be me or Grell, long ago. We’re too short-staffed fer him tae fire ya fer confessing an attraction to him. He might even be flattered. Gods know, tha man ne’er gets ou’ of tha office or goes on dates. Ya might just bring ‘im out o’ his shell a little…but ya won’t know if ya don’t try.”

Ronald swallowed, his mouth going suddenly dry at the thoughts swirling in his head. Well, there was definitely _one_ way he could think of to let his boss know how he felt without a doubt…but just thinking of it made him weak in the knees. He looked up at the Scotsman who had become such a close friend to him, still finding it hard to believe the man was his biological father.

"I sure hope you’re right, Eric. If this backfires on me, I’m blaming you."

Eric smirked. “I’m easy tae blame, I guess. Tha’s a’right, Ronnie. If I’m wrong, yeh can throw me under tha bus and tell tha boss it was my idea. I just dun’ want tae see ya torturing yerself anymore.”

Ronald sighed and nodded. “Okay. I…I’m gonna find out. Shit, I have to pee first. I’ve never been this nervous about making a move!”

"Then go pee and take a few minutes tae think of wha’ yer gonna say." Eric gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, before returning to his chair and having a seat. "I’ll be here waiting tae hear how it turns out. Yer a charmer, Ronnie. Just be confident an’ turn that charm up, like yeh always do. If anyone can melt Spears’ ice, it’d probably be you."

Ronald smiled hesitantly at the praise. “Thanks, Eric. I guess I’d better be going, if I’m going to go for this. Keep your fingers crossed for me.”

* * *

 

William looked up from the paperwork in his hands when someone knocked on his office door. “Enter.”

Ronald Knox poked his head in and he gave the supervisor a somewhat nervous looking smile. “Hey boss, can you spare a few minutes? There’s uh…something I want t’ talk to you about. I mean talk _to_ you.”

William smirked inwardly at the way Ronald revised his sentence to tone down the slang. “I’m rather busy right now, Mr. Knox. Is this something important?”

Ron shrugged and stepped into the office, closing the door behind him. “Yeah, kind of. I’d save it for later but I don’t know if I’ll have the guts to do it if I wait.”

William’s brows furrowed and he lowered the paperwork in his hands as the boy began to cross the room to him. Ronald had a strange look on his face—something between determination and fear. “Knox, what in heavens are you talking about?”

He almost felt like bracing to be hit, but that made no sense. William was doubly shocked when Ronald stopped before him and laid his hands on his shoulders.

"Please don’t fire me for this, boss."

"Fire you? Why would I—"

He never got the chance to finish his sentence, because the next thing he knew, Ronald Knox pulled him close and claimed his lips in a kiss. It was no platonic kiss, either. The young man’s mouth moved against his with a desperate sort of intensity, and William was so surprised that he let go of his documents. They fluttered to the floor, forgotten. Ronald practically pried his lips apart, and then his tongue was inside of Will’s mouth, caressing and coaxing. He heard a sound that he wasn’t accustomed to hearing and it was with further shock that he recognized it as a groan from his own throat. Merciful death, Ronald was a good kisser. Before he knew it, William was falling into the unexpected moment, and he returned the pressure of Ron’s lips and thrust his tongue against the boy’s, taking over dominance of the kiss.

His arms went around Ronald’s waist and his pelvis ground against his. All thoughts of office propriety flew out the figurative window as Will’s long-denied intimacy needs flooded his being. Somehow he ended up turning Ronald around and pushing him up against his desk, and the sensual whimper of need Ron emitted only spurred Will’s lust on. Paperwork and pens scattered everywhere as William pushed him down onto his back on the surface of the desk, his hips grinding between the younger reaper’s thighs.

"Sir," groaned Ronald as their bulging arousals rubbed against each other through their pants. His hands began to busily unbutton William’s blazer and shirt, tugging the latter out of his pants where he’d tucked it in. He bucked against Will in desperation, panting into his mouth as the supervisor claimed his lips again. The air-conditioned chill kissed Will’s skin as his chest was bared, and he groaned again as Ronald’s hands slid over his pecs, before caressing his nipples. William broke the kiss and drew back to look down at Ronald as he slipped one hand between the press of their bodies to fondle the blond’s package.

"B-boss," moaned Ron, eyes fluttering shut. "Ah sh-shit…is this really happening?"

"Evidently so," husked William, his voice rough with desire. A part of him lectured that this was no way for a supervisor to behave, and he was just asking for trouble by allowing his genitals to rule him. He shut that voice out, tired of spending each night alone eating take-out, with only his paperwork to keep him company. If Knox wanted to be shagged right there on his desk, then he was happy to oblige. William was long past due for some reward for all of his hard work, and this eager, gorgeous little charmer was the perfect gift.

A flush of passion grew on Ronald’s cheeks as William felt him up, and he bucked against the older reaper’s fondling hand, moaning his name. He certainly didn’t seem reluctant to give himself to him, even if he hadn’t meant for it to go this far, this fast. William himself was still in a state of shock. He had no idea Ronald was into men, but what a delightful way to discover otherwise.

That thought process reminded William that although Knox was notorious for picking up women and having a date just about every night of the week, he had no idea how much actual experience the boy had. How many men had he been with? He never saw him going on dates with other men, but apparently Ronald had been keeping that part of his romantic life down low. William studied him, fighting with his powerful urges to keep a clear head. He hadn’t anything to use in the way of protection or lubricant, and he groaned in frustration. He stopped fondling him to loosen Ron’s tie and unbutton his shirt.

"How far were you expecting to go, Knox?" He spoke carefully and he watched his face closely as he opened Ron’s shirt and stroked his chest and stomach. "I imagine you weren’t quite expecting my reaction, if your commentary is any indication." He smirked a bit, thinking of how Ronald asked if this was really happening.

Ronald’s chest rose and fell rapidly with his breathy gasps, and his glasses were somewhat askew on his youthful face. “No sir, I didn’t expect ya t’ toss me on your desk like that, but I’m not complaining! I…I’ll go as far as you want. I’ll _do_ anything ya want, just please don’t stop. I want you so fucking bad I…er…sorry for th’ language, sir.”

This time William fully smirked, completely relating with Ronald’s sentiments. “There is a time when vulgarities are acceptable, Ronald—even expected. I believe this is one of them.”

With that said, he descended again and he began to kiss Ron’s throat, sucking at the skin to leave faint marks and drawing more sounds of delight from him. “As much as I would delight in giving you what you ask for and more, I’m afraid I haven’t anything to make it go easier,” he explained reluctantly between kisses, “so unfortunately, I must stop sooner or later.”

"N-no ya don’t," protested Ronald. "I’ve got something on me we could use. Never thought I’d actually get to use any of it, but I was always hopeful."

"Oh?" William raised an interested eyebrow, and he impulsively began to check Ron’s pockets. Finding a pack of lubricant and a condom in one of them, he held them up and gazed at Ronald expectantly. "Just how long have you been planning this move, Mister Knox, and how much experience have you with men?"

Ronald’s blush deepened, and he averted his gaze. “Not much, really. I’ve never gone all the way with anyone, sir…but I really want to with you.”

William stared at him, hardly believing what he was hearing. _~Heavens, he’s a virgin. How can that possibly be, though?~_

With Ronald’s easy confidence and sex appeal, William never would have imagined him being virginal. He didn’t exactly believe him as promiscuous as Slingby once was, but he at least expected he had some experience. It hit him then, how reckless and foolish he was being. He couldn’t just pound his subordinate silly right there in his office and still call himself worthy of his title. Bad enough that he’d actually been ready to do just that, but it would be Ronald’s first time, as well. Honestly, was _this_ the sort of reaper he’d become? Knox was barely into adulthood and there he was, thinking of taking advantage of him.

With a sigh, William put the items down and he straightened up, tugging his shirt closed. Ronald propped himself up on his elbows, eyes widening with the realization of what he was doing. “Boss, what’d I do? Why are ya stopping?”

Will glanced up from his task of buttoning his shirt, and a hint of regret colored his words. “Because this is wrong. I am your boss, and you’ve barely lived for long enough to be certain what you want. As appealing as you are to me, I will not take advantage of what may only be infatuation on your part. As cold as others see me, I’m not that cruel.”

Ronald shook his head. “You’re not taking advantage of anything! _I_ came on to _you_ and I know what I want!” He sat up and he put his arms around the taller man before he could draw away. “I know you want it too, Will. You can’t take advantage of the willing, either.”

He kissed William’s throat his hands sliding around to stroke the portion of his chest still exposed. William shivered and closed his eyes, unable to pull away regardless of his inner doubts. “Believe me, I have never resented my own sensibilities as much as I do now,” he whispered. “This can’t happen, Knox.”

"But you aren’t pushing me away," pointed out Ronald. His tongue traced William’s Adam’s Apple and his lips were like silk against his skin. He tweaked William’s nipples and his kisses moved on to his jaw. "Just ‘cause I haven’t had a dick inside me yet doesn’t mean I’m totally innocent, boss…and you’re hard as a rock."

Ronald demonstrated that point by sliding one hand down to cup Will’s groin, giving it a squeeze that made the supervisor’s breath catch. Ron pulled back to grin at him, his gold-green eyes twinkling with mischief. “Let yourself live a little for once, William T. Sexy. What’s th’ worse that could happen?”

"I could get charges brought up against me for sexual harassment of an underling, for one," answered William dryly, though his breath had quickened again with excitement. "Sexual misconduct in the office is quite the career killer."

Ronald kept rubbing him, the delicious friction provoking a small spot of dampness as precum formed on the head of Will’s encased erection. “Who’s gonna report you? Only people in this office are you and me, hot stuff, and I’m sure as hell not going t’ go running off to report ya for something I want so bad.”

"Ronald," breathed William, voice quivering with lust that was almost painful. Sweet gods, the boy was too good with his hands. He started rocking into the touch against his will, not wanting it to stop.

"I know what I’m doing," insisted Ronald in a seductive tone, "and I know what I want, sir. Don’t hold back. Don’t be scared t’ take what you want."

Ronald slid down off the top of the desk, and he started going to his knees. He stared up at William as he tugged the zipper of his slacks down and unbuckled his belt. “Ya _do_ want me, right?”

"More than my words could possibly express," murmured Will truthfully, "but I…oh, h-honestly…"

Ronald had freed his hardened sex from the confines of his pants and underwear, and his mouth was sliding over the flushed head of it. William stared down at him helplessly as the boy’s tongue stroked against the sensitive tip, and then he took the length deeper into his mouth, humming as he did so. The vibrations made his body sing with pleasure and he groaned, his eyes going blank and unfocused. He reached out with a trembling hand, intending to push Ronald away. Instead he found himself stroking the soft, feathered blond locks encouragingly, and a moan burst past his lips as Ronald began to bob his head steadily, his mouth and tongue doing things that made William completely at his mercy.

"Oh gods," gasped the Dispatch supervisor when Ronald sucked harder. The blond made contented slurping sounds as he pleasured him, and William gave up on trying to stop him. He hissed through his teeth as he watched his length sliding smoothly in and out of the tight seal of Ron’s encircling lips. "My…mistake. You certainly don’t lack…experience."

Ronald smiled and released his cock long enough to speak. “Told ya so. Mmm…” He took his length back into his mouth and he resumed. William began to make noises he’d never heard from himself before as Knox sucked him off with enthusiasm that bordered on criminal. Will clenched his teeth, panting heavily as Ronald messaged the sack under his shaft with one hand. “Knox,” he groaned, “I’m not going to last much longer.”

Ronald kept at it for a moment longer, bringing him to the brink before ceasing his ministrations and reaching for the condom left on the desk. He gazed up at Will as he took it out of the package and began to roll it onto the older man’s twitching length. “You’ve got a great set, boss. It might take a little work ‘cause you’re kind of big, but I’m sure you’ll fit inside me.”

Beyond the point of arguing, William stroked Ron’s hair and gave him one last chance to back out. “You are certain of this, Ronald?”

"Oh yeah." Ronald nodded and he stood up, his face flushed and his eyes bright with passion. "I want you t’ bend me over this desk and have your way with me. Damn, I’ve been wanting to say that for a long time now, too."

"Have you, now?" William smirked, still breathing heavily from the heavenly treatment he’d just gotten. "Then turn around, agent Knox. You’ve passed the point of no return, and I intend to collect what you’ve offered me."

* * *

 

Ronald learned that having sex with a guy wasn’t as simple as he’d thought. He even felt some alarm at the discomfort when Will began to prepare him with his fingers, and he almost asked him to stop. He was determined to see it through though, because why would guys do it so much if it didn’t feel good? He started to wonder if something was wrong with him, but then the tension eased up and William rubbed against a spot inside of him that made him jerk and gasp with surprise. He did it again…and again after that, until Ronald was trembling all over and moaning incoherently. As William did this, he reached around with his other hand to stroke Ronald off, and all of the initial discomfort was drowned out by pleasure. Pink-faced and desperate, Ronald gripped the far edge of the desk and begged breathlessly for more. When he finally felt the thicker girth of Will’s cock pressing against where his fingers had just been, he braced himself. He couldn’t stop the little jolt of fear as the tip started to push into him, and he bit his lip.

"Oh…fuck," Ronald gasped as he stretched to accommodate Will.

"Try to relax," urged William breathlessly. "Don’t clench up, Ronald." He gripped Ron’s length again and he fondled it, distracting him from the stretching sensation. Will’s lips caressed Ronald’s ear, his soft grunts tickling the shell of it as he eased himself deeper into him.

Ronald tried to take his advice deliberately relaxing that part of him even as he clenched the desk with white-knuckled hands. His brows furrowed and he panted as it just kept going deeper, and he wondered if he could take it being all the way inside of him. It finally stopped after a few moments and William ran his free hand over Ronald’s ass in a casually possessive glide, holding still within him.

"So tight," sighed Will, kissing the shell of Ronnie’s ear again. "It will ease up soon. Just give it a few moments, Knox."

"Whatever y’ say, sir," moaned Ronald. The fullness of the thick shaft wedged inside of him was…distracting, and not necessarily in a bad way. It was such an intimate moment, and even though it burned a little, Ronald wouldn’t ask his boss to stop if his life depended on it, now. The worst part was over, and it was starting to feel good already. Will’s dick was pressing against that spot inside of Ronald that made his eyes cross earlier when he rubbed it, and a whimper formed on his lips.

"Sir…feels good…" He squirmed a bit, wishing William would move.

"Mm, that’s precisely what I wish to hear," purred William. He fondled Ron’s cock again, drawing another moan from him. "Patience, though. If this is to be as pleasurable for you as it is for me, we mustn’t rush it." he tugged on Ronald’s earlobe with his teeth and he rocked his hips back and forth, massaging Ron inside and making him groan.

"Unh…W-Will!" Ronald bowed his head, resting his forehead against the cool surface of the desk. He was going to come. He could feel the tension mounting in his pelvis, and every stroke of Will’s hand combined with the feel of his length filling him made it that much more intense. This was going to be a screamer, he was sure. Will’s thumb circled the head of his cock and Ronald shuddered, twitching in the other man’s grasp. Then William began to move, and Ron’s mouth went slack with shock at the feel of it.

Good…so good. His earlier concerns that he might not enjoy it as much as he’d hoped were melting away as his superior’s swollen length retreated to the tip, only to slide back in deep. Ronald whimpered again and he followed up with an incoherent blurt of noise as Will began to thrust, slowly and steadily.

"Ahh…boss! Oh…OOHHH!"

Faster, harder, William gradually picked up the pace, his husky groans of pleasure joining Ronald’s. Flesh slapped against flesh and Will cupped Ronald’s hip with his free hand to yank him back into his thrusts, and Ron was helpless to resist it. In fact, he needed more. He wanted it rougher…wanted William to make him scream and see stars.

"Sir," whined Ronald, "harder…fuck me harder…"

Well, he’d said vulgarities were fine and even expected in this situation. Ronald hoped he’d meant it. He heard William hiss, and suddenly the supervisor released his cock to grab hold of his hips with both hands.

"You are," panted William, "simply begging for it."

"Hell…yes," agreed Ronald, not even bothering to deny it. His eyes went wide as Will rammed into him again, much more forcibly than any of his previous thrusts. It hurt and pleasured at the same time and it hit that spot inside again that made him feel like jumping. "Oh gods…oh fuck…"

He couldn’t even keep track of his own cries and swearing as William gave him what he’d pleaded for and proceeded to pound into him. He came all over the side of the man’s desk and he couldn’t keep the volume of his cries down for the life of him. One of Will’s hands clamped down over his mouth and the supervisor rasped a warning into his ear.

"We don’t need…to draw an…audience, Knox."

Ronald couldn’t even comprehend his words, he was so caught up in the bliss of his climax. He inadvertently bit down on the fleshy part of William’s palm, but the older man didn’t recoil. Will’s groans increased in volume and frequency as he kept going at it, and Ronald wasn’t really surprised when he began to harden again under the wonderful assault. He heard his boss’s breath catch, followed by a deeper, more primal groan of pleasure. Will shoved into him one last time and his length bucked inside of Ronald, filling the condom encasing it with his seed. Will dropped his sweating forehead to Ronald’s back, resting it between his shoulderblades as he reached completion.

Pleasantly exhausted and sore from the experience, Ronald smiled at the feel of Will softening inside of him. “Damn that was good,” he breathed, closing his eyes and pillowing his cheek on his arms.

"I…concur," wheezed his companion, "though I ordinarily would not be so…rough…with a virgin."

"Hey, I asked for it," reminded Ronald. He was grinning like a fool, despite the burn in his nethers. "It was everything I thought it’d be. Might not be able t’ walk right for a couple days, but it was worth it."

William sighed, seeming just as drained as Ronald. He stroked the blond’s sides and hips with his hands, before easing carefully out of him. He opened up a drawer and Ronald yelped when something wet and cold suddenly pressed against his sore flesh. “H-hey…what’s that?”

"A wet wipe," answered William. "To clean you up and ease some of your discomfort. You may wish to take a couple of aspirin, too."

Ronald accepted the treatment, wincing in spite of himself at the sting. Will was right though; the coolness was helping a bit. He should have known the boss would keep something like that in his desk, being the immaculate reaper he was. Ron sighed lazily as William finished up and pulled his briefs and pants up for him. He smiled again when the older man nuzzled his cheek. He never would have thought William T. Spears could be nurturing.

"Thanks, boss," yawned Ronald. He straightened up and turned around, grimacing a little at the burn that the movement caused. Will had already disposed of the condom and pulled his own pants back up. Ronald stared up at him as he started buttoning up his shirt, unsure of what to say now. "Um…so are we dating now?"

Oh gods, was this just going to be a one time thing? Did William even date at all? Ronald braced himself as his supervisor glanced at him, and he didn’t dare move when Will reached out to straighten his glasses for him.

"One has to go on an actual date for it to be considered ‘dating’, Ronald Knox."

Ronnie felt his heart plummet into his shoes. “Oh. Yeah. I guess banging me in the office isn’t really a date, huh?”

"Not as such," agreed the elegant reaper with a nod. He studied Ronald for a moment before speaking again. "But dinner and a movie would fall under that category, I believe. I have far too much work to do today, but my weekend should be open. Do you like seafood, Ronald?"

Ron blinked, hardly believing he was about to get two miracles in one day. “Uh, sure! I’ll eat whatever you put in front of me, most of th’ time! So we’re going on a date Saturday?”

"That _is_ what I just offered,” said William dryly, his mouth twitching with a trace of amusement. “However, we should avoid advertisement of this arrangement. While I’ve no intention of treating you as a dirty little secret, it would be in both our best interests not to discuss it with coworkers—particularly Sutcliff. Do you understand?”

Ronald nodded convulsively. “Yeah, that’s fair. I’m not really ‘out of the closet’ yet anyway and…and I don’t want to risk you getting in trouble, either.”

Ronald flushed as he looked at him. Death, but the man was hot. _Smoking hot_ and Ronald was ready for an encore already. It probably wasn’t a good idea though, if he didn’t want to end up having to take a sick day because he couldn’t walk. He settled for tracing Will’s aristocratic features with his fingers, followed by a slow, deep kiss. The supervisor returned the kiss and put his arms around him, and Ronald felt like he was on cloud nine.

"Yeah, this isn’t just a crush," he whispered against the taller man’s lips when they broke the kiss.

"I should hope not," murmured William. "I’m not in the habit of investing myself in relationships that are merely a phase, despite my desire to practice caution and keep it to ourselves."

"It’s no phase," promised Ronald. He smiled and winked at him. "I wouldn’t have done that with ya if it was."

"Hm, very well." William helped him do up his shirt and blazer, and then he straightened Ronald’s tie and gave him one last, lingering kiss. "You should return to work before any suspicions arise. I look forward to our date on Saturday."

Ronald checked a sigh, knowing the man wasn’t dismissing him to snub him. “Think we could fool around a little between now and then, Will?” He flushed as he said the man’s name so casually, but William hadn’t seemed to mind it when they were in the middle of making out, and if they were going to start dating he couldn’t go around calling him “boss” and “sir” all the time when they were alone together.

"I…would not recommend it," answered William with obvious reluctance. "If you spend too much time in my office each day, people will begin to wonder and perhaps try to listen in."

"What about in your apartment, or mine?" Ronald brushed a wayward strand of hair away from Will’s forehead. "Maybe after work sometime. I’m not asking ya to stay the night with me or anything…just come over for some kissy time."

William put two fingers against his lips and his eyes lit up tellingly. “Oh really?”

"Yeah, and you can smile now and then, you know." Ronald nudged him playfully. "It won’t break that sexy face of yours."

"I shall keep that in mind." William did smile subtly—an expression said face simply wasn’t accustomed to making. "I will consider your suggestion, should our schedules allow it. You may just have to be patient and wait for the weekend, though."

Ronald shrugged, too excited to be actually _dating_ this guy to push it. At least he’d get to see him every day, even if he couldn’t do more than sneak a smooch behind closed doors at work. “Okay, I guess I’ll let you get back to your work and I’ll get back to mine. Just remember what my mouth can do while you’re thinking on that, boss.”

William watched him exit the office, and Ronald heard his soft response as he opened the door to go. “Oh I shall, Ronald. Such a thing is not easy to forget.”

Ron chuckled and tossed one last wink over his shoulder at him before exiting.

* * *

 

-To be continued


	6. Chapter 6

 

* * *

Ronald tried very hard not to give away his new relationship with his boss. It was difficult for him though. Every time he passed William in the hallway or reported to him in the office his heart skipped a beat, and he counted the days until their appointed date. William was a master at wearing a mask of casualty, and as the weekend approached, Ronald almost started to wonder if he’d only fantasized that hot encounter in the office. Then on Friday morning he ran into William in the break room when there were no other agents around, and when the supervisor came up behind him and spoke into his ear, the blond flushed and lost all doubt.

"I look forward to our date, Mr. Knox," murmured William in that sexy voice.

Ronald gulped and he nearly spilled coffee all over himself. “M-me too, sir. I mean Will. Sorry…I keep trying t’ remember not to talk too familiar to you at work. It’s a little confusing sometimes.”

"That’s quite all right," William assured softly. He cast a covert look toward the break room door to be sure nobody was in the hallway, and then he slid his hands down Ronald’s arms in a casually possessive glide. "As I said before, you may call me ‘Will’ whenever we are alone. Feel free to scream it as well."

Ronald practically melted, his body easily recalling every touch from their last encounter. “Boss…you’re at risk of putting me in an embarrassing state t’ work in.”

William’s lips smiled against his earlobe as the taller man leaned in for a brief kiss in that spot. “So long as I know you haven’t grown too impatient waiting, Mr. Knox.”

"Oh, it’s totally worth the wait," enthused Ronald, shutting his eyes. "Will…are we gonna…I mean after the date, can we have like…a refresher?"

"Hmph. Eager, aren’t you?" William stepped aside and he smirked at Ronald as he poured himself a fresh cup of coffee.

"Pardon my language, but fuck yes," replied the blond without censor. He looked directly into the eyes of the taller man and he bit his lower lip. "I haven’t been able to stop thinking of it. Thought maybe I’d just dreamt it because you’ve been…well…this is the first time since that day you made me feel like we’re…together. I mean I know we agreed not t’ advertise it but…"

William abruptly went to the door and he closed it, before returning to Ronald. He set aside his drink, cupped the blond’s face in both hands and kissed him deeply. Ronald whimpered and put his hands on William’s shoulders, losing himself in the unexpected kiss.

"W-Will," he gasped when the older man released him. He had to brace himself against William’s chest to keep from falling flat on his face. Damn, could that man kiss!

William held his gaze, and but for the flash of passion in his eyes, his emotions were unreadable. “Does it still feel like a dream then, Ronald?”

"Yeah," answered Ron thoughtlessly, "but in a different way. Damn, boss!"

William graced him with a brief smile. “Perhaps we can change that this weekend. I wish that we could be more open about this, Ronald, but it’s truly for the best that we continue to be discreet for the time being. It will be quite different outside the office, Ronald.”

Ronald lowered his eyes almost shyly. “Yeah, I can see that…and I know ya took a risk laying a big wet one on me right here in th’ break room. I…I appreciate that, Will.”

The older man took one more liberty, reaching out to caress Ronald’s youthful face with gloved fingers. “I believe that you have proven yourself quite worthy of the occasional risk to my professional reputation.”

Ron lifted his gaze again, and he smiled. “You’ve got a gift for surprising th’ hell out o’ me, William T. Spears. Just when I think I might have finally figured you out, I get thrown for a loop. Never would’ve thought you’d kiss me right here in the break room, where anyone could come in.”

"I’m complicated." William smirked, and he retrieved his coffee from the counter. "Please do be ready for our date tomorrow night, Ronald…and do not be late clocking back in from your break."

"I will. I mean about being ready on time for the date. I won’t be late clocking back in."

"Very good." William retrieved his coffee. "Have a good work day, Mr. Knox."

Ronald watched him go and he blew a sigh. “Wow. That guy is just full of surprises.”

He shrugged and selected a snack from the machine to go with his own coffee, and then he left the break room to clock back in and check if Grell was back yet. He found the crimson reaper in his office and he sighed in relief. That meant he didn’t have to return to his little cubicle and he could do all of his paperwork in a room with a view. “Hey Miss Sutcliff,” he called as he walked in and set his coffee and morning snack on the smaller desk reserved for him as Grell’s trainee—though Ronald had moved beyond the need for constant supervision on the job. “Hope ya don’t mind me working in here with you today.”

Grell looked up from the report he was typing and he smiled at Ronald. “Morning, Ronnie darling. Of course you may work in here today. I’m terribly sorry I’ve been too busy to reap with you, lately. From what Alan has told me, you’ve been handling yourself well.”

Ronald shrugged and he checked turned on his data processor. While Grell still seemed to prefer the use of a typewriter to fill out his reports, Ronald was partial to the more modernized method. He didn’t get why Grell insisted on using one of those old typing machines…what with the way the keys frequently stuck and how one had to use white-out to correct mistakes.

"It’s all right. Boss says I don’t need a mentor at my side on most assignments anymore unless it’s a big job that requires teaming up, and he sends me out with Eric and Alan when that happens. I’ll just go get my files from my cubicle and be right back."

He started to walk past Grell’s larger, more intricate oaken desk and he noticed something that made him stop and frown. “Hey Senpai…is that blood on your chin?”

Grell reached up with gloved fingers to quickly wipe away the spot of crimson. “Oh…that. Well you see, I had a rare steak while I was out.”

Ronald blinked and glanced at the clock on the wall. “At eight o’clock in the morning? Where?” Grell’s eyes were oddly dilated again…like they were that time when they collected the records of that murdered harlot.

Grell appeared slightly flustered and he pursed his lips. “There happens to be a twenty-four hour diner near my apartment. If I want to have a good, rare steak for breakfast then I will! Why the interrogation?”

Ronald backed up a step. “Easy, Grell. It’s just…steak isn’t something I’d usually think of for breakfast.”

"You’ve never heard of steak and eggs before?" Grell raised a brow.

"Well, yeah." Ronald flushed. "Maybe I should amend that to I never pictured you as a steak eater. I guess I always figured you’d be the sort of lady that would go for fruit parfait or croissants. Ya seem to like the classy French stuff more than the English."

Grell’s expression softened, his ire pacified as usual by Ronald addressing him as a lady. “’ _Amend’_ , Ronnie? That’s a peculiar word for you to use. Expanding your vocabulary lately, are you?” He waved it off before the younger reaper could answer. “No doubt you have picked up some words from my cold prince William. Yes, I _do_ tend to favor French cuisine most often, but every once in a while I enjoy a lovely, bloody steak.”

"Have fun with that." Ronald tried not to make a face. He liked his steak medium well. If it was still kicking he didn’t want to eat it. It did make sense that with teeth like those, Grell would be a bit more on the predatory side. Ronald smiled and he came closer to lean against Grell’s desk. "So, do ya think my vocabulary’s improving? I’ve been trying to talk more proper around the office…at least in front of the boss."

His cheeks flushed again at the mention of William and he made a show of casually glancing through the finished paperwork on his mentor’s desk, hoping Grell wouldn’t see the truth behind his gaze. He was absolutely the _last_ person Ronald needed finding out he’d started banging the boss. Grell still seemed to entertain hopes that William would change his mind about him and sweep him off his feet.

Grell sighed and pulled his stack of paperwork out of Ronald’s reach, sorting it deftly before laying it in the “outgoing” report tray. “I think you sound less like a country bumpkin than you did when you first arrived here, yes. Still, I wonder what you lose by pretending to be something you are not.”

Grell propped his chin in his hand and gazed up at Ronald thoughtfully. “Both you and Eric mask yourselves before your peers—all of them save each other, myself and Alan. You iron out your accents and you try to fit in with everyone here. Truthfully, I prefer Slingby’s sexy, rugged Scottish brogue to that put-on English accent he adopts in front of others in the office. Doesn’t it get tiring, Ronald, to continue with the charade?”

"I’m not a ‘bumpkin’," protested Ronald, "and just because I try to use better grammar around the boss and the others doesn’t mean I’m not still myself. Part of moving up the ladder is trying to impress your superiors, right?"

Grell snorted, and he sat back in his chair. “William is not the sort of man anyone can ‘impress’, darling. Believe me, I’ve tried for years. I think you’re wasting your efforts on him.”

Ronald smirked humorlessly. “Kind of like you?”

For a moment, Grell looked sad. “Yes. Like me.”

At once, Ronald felt like a jackass. “Man, I’m sorry, Senpai. I didn’t mean t’ bring you down. Want me to grab anything for you on the way while I’m going to get my assignments and file work?”

Grell shook his head and gave a small, rueful little smile. “No, that’s all right. I’ve become used to Will’s rejection. I think now I only flirt with him out of habit, rather than the hope that he’ll finally see me as the lady I am and love me. Go and get your things, darling.”

Feeling even more wretched, Ronald nodded and he left Grell’s office to go the next floor down to the cubicle area where all junior officers worked until they earned promotion to the next level. He was luckier than most, and people could say what they wished about Grell, but up until recently he had been a great mentor to Ronald…and he doted on him from time to time, too. Nobody else in Ronald’s position could say that their mentors or previous mentors kept an additional desk in their office just for them. And there he was, dating the man that his senpai was infatuated with.

Ronald’s feet dragged as he made his way to the elevator. He was a rotten apprentice, a rotten coworker and a rotten friend. He started to think of some of the odd behavior Grell had exhibited lately, and he wondered if he was just depressed. Maybe Miss Sutcliff was just doing his best to hide it from everyone and that might explain the strange way his pupils seemed to dilate from time to time, and the grim things he’d mentioned. Could he be on some kind of antidepressant medication?

Ronald paused at William’s office door on his way to the lift, and he shifted uncertainly on his feet. What if it was serious? What if Grell needed someone to reach out to him? It was a known fact that some reapers eventually got too emotionally weighed down by the job and their immortal existence. Even some of the famous ones snapped from time to time. His reaper history class when he was in training mentioned quite a few historical reaper figures that eventually went off the deep end and either killed themselves, went renegade or simply vanished.

Was Grell on the way to becoming one of them?

Ronald closed his eyes and bit his lip, before reaching out to knock on William’s office door.

 

* * *

 

"Come in," William called upon hearing the knock, "and do make it quick. I’ve a lot of paperwork to catch up on and—"

He abruptly ended his sentence when he glanced up and saw Ronald stepping through the door, bearing an expression of angst and worry on his young face. William tilted his head and motioned for the blond to close the door behind him, and he set aside the documents he was going over and gestured at the chair on the other side of his desk.

"Sit. What is it now, Mr. Knox?" His first suspicion was that Eric had done something to disappoint the boy again, but since Ronald hadn’t come out and told him directly that Slingby was his true father, William chose not to make mention of it.

"It’s Grell," answered Ronald with a sigh as he plopped down in the offered chair. "And…I know this might not be appropriate, but could you maybe call me Ronald when we’re alone? Like you did in the break room?"      

While he hadn’t expected for this to be about Grell, William wasn’t surprised. He nodded. “Very well…Ronald. What is it about Grell that you wish to discuss?”

Ronald scratched the back of his head and shrugged. “Well, he’s been acting strange.”

When the supervisor lifted an eyebrow, Ron amended: “Stranger than usual, that is. Sir…Will…I think something’s really wrong. I know Sutcliff Senpai can be an odd one on his best days, but I’ve gotten t’ know him pretty well and this goes way beyond his usual behavior. I’m getting worried. I think…maybe…he’s depressed.”

William barely avoided scoffing at the notion. “What in heavens could Sutcliff possibly have to be depressed about, Ronald?”

The boy sighed and gazed at him levelly. “You.”

William’s brows furrowed and a light flush spread over his cheeks. “Me?” He tried to sound bewildered, but he knew very well how Grell felt about him.

"Yes, you." Ronald started to sound annoyed. "And don’t sit there trying to deny it, boss. Everyone in the office knows he’s crazy about you."

"The key word being ‘crazy’," William pointed out dryly. "Ronald, listen to me. Grell has dragged you into his drama and made you feel sorry for him, but this is a routine I have been dealing with since the two of us passed our initiation into Dispatch together and he decided to become enamored with me. I have never once given him reason to believe there could ever be anything between us outside a work relationship. His refusal to accept that is not my problem, nor is it yours."

"I’m not asking you to take him out on a date or anything," Ronald assured him. "Just…maybe try t’ be a little nicer to him? I think it would really make a difference."

William sighed. “You know, Mr. Humphries once asked me the very same thing. The two of you are so alike in your sympathy for that…that reaper.” He’d nearly said “lunatic” but knowing how fond Ronald was of Grell, the held back. “I have been dealing with this nonsense for years, and should I suddenly begin treating him ‘nicely’ he will likely take it as encouragement…and then I shall _never_ get him off my back. Need I also remind you that I am not a ‘nice’ man.”

Ronald lowered his gaze. “You can be nice…sometimes. You’ve been pretty nice to me. I mean for you.”

William smirked briefly. “Very well; present company excluded, I am not in the habit of being nice to my employees. I am not their friends, Ronald. I am their boss. Managers that attempt to befriend their subordinates generally tend to get run over by them in the end.”

Ronald lifted his gaze again. “Okay I get that, but maybe you could try being a little easier on him. Ya don’t have to buy him flowers or make small talk with him, but could you maybe just try not being so mean?”

William sighed and he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"Please, Will?"

The supervisor looked at the young man that had so easily broken down his barriers and charmed him into dating. Ronald looked so very earnest, and William admitted to himself that he was quite possibly the only reaper he knew that could weaken his resolve and provoke him to do things that he would not ordinarily consider doing. “You don’t know what you ask of me, Ronald.”

Ron bit his lip. “I think he might be on drugs or something.”

William frowned, recalling having the same suspicions fairly recently himself. “What makes you suspect that?”

Ronald seemed reluctant to meet his eyes. “I dunno. His eyes look strange sometimes. I’m not saying he’s coming into work high, but maybe he’s on some kind of prescription medication? You know some reapers can crack, Will. I don’t want t’ accuse my mentor of anything, but if he’s depressed and taking meds for it, I’m scared he might hurt himself.”

That was a serious matter indeed, much as William liked to think Ronald was just being played for sympathy. If one of his agents was suffering mental or emotional distress and requiring medication to manage it, then it was his responsibility as the executive manager of their department to deal with the matter before it got out of hand. He had also noticed some odd behavior on Grell’s part over the past few months, but he’d brushed it off as Sutcliff just being…well, Sutcliff.

"I shall look into it," he promised. He softened his tone somewhat when Ronald sighed in relief and nodded, and William reached across the table in an uncommon gesture of comfort and squeezed Ronald’s hand. "Even should your concerns prove invalid, you did the right thing in coming to me with them, Ronald. As much as Sutcliff irks me, I know that the two of you are close and if you are this worried, then it does bear investigation. Now, try not to fret over it and leave it in my hands for now. This is all that you can do for the moment, so concentrate on your duties and don’t allow it to put you in a state."

Ron took a deep breath and he nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

As William retracted his hand, the younger reaper got up and prepared to leave his office. Ronald paused and looked back at him, and then he shrugged and came back to circle around Will’s desk. He bent over, cupped the supervisor’s face in his hands and laid a soft kiss on his lips.

"Door’s closed," reminded the blond with a little smile. "I figured one kiss of gratitude wouldn’t hurt."

William smirked at him. “I can make allowances this time. Now get back to work before it piles up on you and you fall behind. I would rather not serve you overtime on the night before our date. Such a thing might breed resentment.”

"Yeah, I don’t want you to give me overtime either." Ronald winked at him and then he started for the door. "Thanks again, boss."

William watched him go, and when he was again alone in his office his expression hardened and he reached for his desk phone. He pushed the third button on the quick dial to ring the Personnel Department. “Good morning, this is William T. Spears; supervisor of Dispatch. I would like to implement random drug testing for all employees in my department today, starting with the senior officers. Yes, as soon as you can, please. Thank you. I shall put out a notification to my people.”

 

* * *

 

"Drug testing?" Eric frowned at the memo he’d gotten in his office mailbox. "Hey Alan, din’t we jus’ have our physicals an’ bloodwork done last month?"

Alan looked up from the data he was working on. “Yes, I think so. Why?”

Eric held up the notification. “Seems they’ve decided tae do random drug testing today. Tha’s strange.”

Alan shrugged, unconcerned. “Some reapers do abuse medication and alcohol at times, Eric. I’m sure they have good reason and it _is_ in the organization’s employment requirements that employees may have to submit to random drug testing. We have nothing to worry about anyway…do we?”

Alan gave him a teasing smile. “Have you been misbehaving while I wasn’t looking, Eric?”

"Ya know better ‘n tha’." Eric crossed the room to Alan’s desk and he bent over to kiss the crown of his head. "Only thing I abuse is alcohol, an’ so far there aren’t any rules against drinking on our own time. I jus’ think it’s strange ‘cause it’s been at least five years since they called fer a random drug test out o’ tha blue."

"That’s why it’s referred to as ‘random’, love."

"A’right, ya little smartass," growled the Scotsman with a grin. "Enough showing off. Guess we’d better head downstairs tae tha lab an’ get it o’er wi’. I dun’ want tae fall behind an’ end up staying late tonight. We’ve go’ plans, remember?"

"Yes, we do." Alan got up from his desk and he put his arms around his partner, kissing his throat. "And I’ve been looking forward to ‘date night’ all week. Let’s go."

 

* * *

 

Two hours later, William got back the resulting data from the lab and he went through each employee’s file. He found that two of the junior officers tested positive for opiate use and he sighed, shaking his head. The young ones were usually the ones to get caught whenever they ran these surprise blood tests, so he wasn’t very surprised. He typed out a report on both guilty parties and recommended probation and a pay cut for them until they could clean up their act. All of the senior officers’ tests came back clean—including Sutcliff’s.

William sat back in his chair and he pondered what action to take next, if any. Grell evidently wasn’t on any unusual medications as Ronald suspected, but the fact that the boy was so worried made William feel that all was not quite well with Sutcliff. His superiors would probably laugh at him if he made too big a deal out of the concerns of a fledgling officer, so whatever he decided to do would need to be low-key.

William pulled up Grell’s report and assignment history and he began to go over it thoroughly, searching for anything that might give him cause to have him watched. His eyes narrowed as he came across the Ripper case files. Each of the deaths in this case involved parties not scheduled on the death lists. While the Personnel Department had been known to err in the past and they did not always predict every future death perfectly, only two of the Ripper victims had been on the death list…and Grell was always one of the agents sent to collect their records.

"He’d requested it," recalled William aloud, his straight, narrow brows furrowing. Sutcliff had come to him after the first victim and personally requested to be assigned to any further mortal deaths of a similar manner. It was almost as if he knew there would be more victims before Personnel even did. William went along with it and granted his request if only to get him out of his hair, but now he began to wonder what might lie beneath this entire thing.

"What are you hiding, Sutcliff?" he murmured, tapping his fingers on the surface of his desk as he scanned the files. "What else might be going on behind the curtains that I’ve failed to see?"

William decided that it bore further investigation, and he picked up his phone to dial two of his most trustworthy agents’ office. “Humphries, this is Spears. I need you and your partner to come to my office immediately. Do not tarry.”

 

* * *

 

Eric and Alan glanced at each other before opening the door to Spears’ office and going in. “What’s going on, boss?” Eric purposely toned down his accent as they were invited inside, figuring it might be in his better interest to speak more coherently—according to most of his British colleagues.

"Please have a seat," invited William. He propped his elbows on the surface of the desk and he threaded his fingers together as the two of them did as bidden. "I shan’t beat around the bush. Something odd is going on with Grell Sutcliff, and I require answers. I am assigning the two of you to follow him and monitor where he goes and what he does from now on. Avoid detection at all costs and report everything back to me."

Eric blinked at him. “Er…all right, but could you at least tell us why?”

William glanced at the screen on his computer. “I have come across some information that has me convinced he is up to something. I cannot be sure what. I was approached today by another agent that expressed some concerns as well, so I believe it is time to look more closely into his activities.”

"What concerns, sir?" Alan politely prompted. "I must admit that I’m not comfortable spying on a coworker like this, and forgive me, but I would like more details." Beside him, Eric nodded in agreement.

William sighed and he looked them both in the eye, one at a time. “That is the problem, gentlemen. I don’t know precisely _what_ we are looking for. All that I can tell you for certain is that Sutcliff has demonstrated behavior recently that is troubling even for _him_ , and the recent string of murders in London may have something to do with it. As you both know, most of the victims were not on the death lists—and therefore their demise was either not properly forseen or they were dispatched before their appointed time. Grell Sutcliff has been directly assigned to each of those collections by his own request, and I am now beginning to regret agreeing to that.”

"I’m not clear on what it is you’re accusing him of, Will." Eric searched the supervisor’s eyes steadily, his handsome face troubled. "Do you think he’s been tampering with the death lists? What does he have to gain from that?"

"As I told you; I really don’t know what he’s doing," William reiterated, clinging tenaciously to his patience. "That is why I need for the two of you to look into it for me. This will be a covert assignment; one that shan’t go on record. I don’t wish to bring the board into this until I have some form of solid proof of what he’s been up to."

William pulled out one of the drawers of his desk and he retrieved a book of life from within it. “Here are the cinematic records of one of the latest Ripper victims. It is not our duty as reapers to interfere with mortal crimes, of course, but I thought it best that the two of you review it. I can think of no way that Sutcliff could possibly tamper with the death lists, but I fear he may be covering something up. I would like for the two of you to take this book home with you tonight. Considering that none of these deaths have recently been predicted by Personnel, we must assume something else is at work beneath the surface. I suspect that Grell has something to do with it. Review these reels carefully for any clues that might lead to an answer, and consider yourselves on active work duty at all times save for when Grell Sutcliff is not in this office or at home.”

Eric opened his mouth in protest but Alan subtly nudged him with his shoe and squeezed his knee in warning. Neither of them knew just why, but William’s patience with the Scotsman was very thin lately and Alan did not want to see his partner incur further penalties or additional overtime.

"Yes sir," Alan agreed, giving Eric another warning squeeze on the knee. "We understand and we’ll do our best."

"And remember to tell no-one of this," stressed William. His gaze went deliberately to Eric. "Not even Mr. Knox. Let us avoid the possibility of assumptions and drama, gentlemen."

Eric made a frustrated sound in his throat, but he nodded. “Aye.”

William slid the book across the desk to them. “Thank you both. I could think of no other agents to take care of this matter with such discretion, and I want you to know that I appreciate your cooperation.”

That mollified Eric’s frustration somewhat. He shrugged broad shoulders and took the book, getting up. With a salute at his boss, he nodded at his partner and the two of them exited William’s office. Once they were outside in the hallway, Eric finally grumbled the complaint that had been on the tip of his tongue.

"Sae much fer our night out."

Alan gave the taller reaper’s hand a brief squeeze. “That’s all right, Eric. We could treat it as a game and make a date of it.”

Eric’s grimaced. “A game? Out o’ spying on one of our own? I’m usually tha one tae come up wi’ silly ideas like tha’.”

Alan sighed and he turned to face his lover, running his hands briefly over his shoulders before rubbing them to ease the tension. “I’m not trying to make light of this, love. It doesn’t sit right with me either, but we have our orders and we might as well try and make the best of it. You’re the one that taught me that, when things get unpleasant.”

Eric sighed and met his eyes. “I know Grell can be a pain in tha arse, but he’s one of us. Feels dirty tae me.”

Alan nodded, accepting that opinion and agreeing with it. “I know. It’s taken you a long time to be accepted here and I remember how Grell was one of the only senior officers not to give you too much flack. William has known him for longer than any of us though, and Ronald is very close to him. If they’re worried, than we should be worried too.”

"Ah, yeh cracked his code in there too, eh?" Eric smirked dryly. "I thought it might have been Ronnie he was talking about as well, when he said someone came tae him wi’ concerns." 

"I can’t think of anyone else he might have been talking about," sighed Alan, "and his closing statement warning us not to speak to Ronald about it was telling as well. I can understand why he wouldn’t want Knox to know that we’re investigating his mentor. He might not take it too well."

"But tha kid had tae know tha’ Will would look into it if he came tae him an’ told him he was worried," Eric pointed out. "He’s no’ stupid."

"Of course not," soothed Alan, "but Ronald often thinks with his heart before his head…like another handsome reaper I know." He smiled and he gave Eric’s shoulders another comforting squeeze.

"Hmph…good thing I’m so head o’er heels fer ya, or I might take offense." Eric smirked at his partner. "So wha’ kind of game are ya thinking of making this into, Al? I cannae say I’m too enthused about it."

Alan shrugged and he dropped his hands from Eric’s shoulders. “Hide and seek? We can make a game of keeping out of Grell’s sight, I suppose. I just wanted you to stop looking so grim. It doesn’t suit you at all.”

Eric huffed softly and smiled, lowering his gaze for a moment before meeting Alan’s eyes and cupping his chin. “Gods, I love ya.”

Alan smiled back at him and he didn’t pull away when the taller man lowered his mouth to his for a brief kiss.

 

* * *

 

Later that night after work, Alan and Eric brought the life book home with them to review it before dinner. Sitting down with some tea, they opened it up and they released the records, watching the reels as they unraveled before their eyes and showed them the victim’s life events. Eric used the death bookmark provided with the book to skip to the final hours of the woman’s life and he put an arm around his partner as they observed them. There was really no need to view all of her activities with her clients, unless they saw something in the final reels that might suggest there was an event further back that could have led to her demise.

"Wait…pause it," requested Alan when a man wearing glasses with a long brown ponytail appeared in the reels. "Eric, back up a bit."

Eric did as his lover asked and reversed the reels to the point where the man first entered the building that the victim was in. Alan leaned forward, his face highlighted by the glow from the cinematic records. “I have seen him before,” he announced, studying the events closely. He reached out to take Eric’s free hand in his, and his sculpted features were tense. “I saw him in London not long ago, when I was on an assignment. He was some noble woman’s butler and he was across the street from me at a boutique, assisting his mistress with luggage.”

Eric stared at the image for a moment before nodding. “Let’s start tha reels up again an’ see wha’ happened.”

Alan had a wary expression on his face, and Eric studied him with concern. “Everything a’right, lover?”

Alan shook his head slowly, his green-gold stare never leaving the image of the man. “I…I’m not sure, Eric. I’d forgotten all about it because we’ve been so busy and I brushed it off as a strange coincidence, but I remember the noble woman referring to this man as ‘Grell’.”

Eric looked back at the reel with a frown, and he gestured at it. “But tha’s no’ Grell. Pretty obvious tae me it’s jus’ some mortal.”

Alan visibly swallowed. “He appears to be, but for a moment I swear he could see me. Keep playing the reels, Eric. We need to see what he was doing there.”

Eric nodded and he ran the bookmark over the pages to resume the play of the records. As they watched, the wobbly image of the man with the ponytail came into sharper focus, and they could see the silhouette of a female in a dress behind him, backlit by the light from another room. The butler didn’t look particularly menacing at first—until he started to grin and a mad look came into his eyes. He bent over to say something to the previous owner of the cinematic records and he produced a lipstick from somewhere. The tube of crimson lip color came closer to the image and then dipped partially out of sight. The image wavered as the victim struggled and her tears blurred the image.

"Wha’ in tha hell…" Eric was at a loss. They were giving her a…makeover? "I dun’ get it."

"Shh, Eric," admonished Alan, leaning closer to him.

Eric shrugged and kept his questions to himself, wondering if they even had the correct life book. His eyes widened when the man bending over the victim began to smile broadly, displaying teeth that changed from ordinary looking ones to dagger-like fangs before his very eyes. Alan cuddled closer to him upon witnessing it and the brunet clutched Eric’s shirt, eyes just as wide as the Scotsman’s.

"E-Eric…"

Eric put a comforting arm around his partner, sharing his dismay. He shook his head slowly but his eyes remained glued to the scene as the suddenly dagger-toothed butler opened what appeared to be a case of assorted medical instruments, before proceeding to use them on the hapless victim. The image flickered and bounced, and he was vaguely thankful that there was no sound to accompany what must have been an agonizing death. The last image they saw was of the butler holding up some bloody organ with one hand and a dripping scalpel in the other. The woman in the background approached, her eyes flashing with a mad sort of glee as her butler held out the offering to her with a crimson-splashed smile.

"I…I’ve seen enough," announced Alan.

It didn’t really matter, because the picture faded as the victim’s life ended. Eric drew the reels back into the book and he closed the cover after replacing the bookmark under it. He stroked Alan’s hair and he sighed. His partner had always been so tender-hearted for a reaper, and though Alan had learned to put his personal feelings on the back-burner when reaping, that scene was even enough to make Eric’s skin crawl. It wasn’t because of the cruel, gruesome manner of the pitiful mortal’s death. For the Scotsman, the feeling of horror came from seeing that familiar set of teeth in the face of a creature he’d presumed to be human.

"We cannae make assumptions," Eric murmured as he held his partner close. "We dun’ know exactly wha’ we saw yet."

Alan pulled his head off the bigger man’s shoulder and he stared at him with aching, traumatized eyes. “How many mortals have _you_ seen with teeth like that?”

"Wull…uh…they’ve go’ freak shows at carnivals an’ some cultures are known tae file tha teeth o’ their warriors like tha’."

Alan heaved a sigh and pulled back to gaze at him levelly. “And how many of those warriors can literally transform their teeth from ordinary, natural ones to sharp points like that on a whim?”

"I dunno, damn it!" Eric caught himself when Alan recoiled, and he was immediately contrite. He caressed Alan’s beloved face with his calloused fingers and he shook his head. "I’m sorry fer yelling, sweetheart. I’m jus’ trying tae make sense of what we saw. Christ, did Spears even review this himself?"

Alan sighed again and he cupped a hand over Eric’s caressing one. “I doubt it, Eric. I can’t help but feel that Mr. Spears isn’t willing to take any action himself until someone shows him the proof that he needs to. Much as he hates to admit it, there is a history between the two of them and he seems to do his best to avoid interaction with Grell as much as possible. If Miss Sutcliff has been the one filling out all of these reports then the library itself might not have any reason to review these records unless requested to do so by the board. I…I don’t think William even wanted to look at it, love.”

"So he gets us tae do his dirty work for him," grumbled Eric. "Might’ve known."

Alan lowered his gaze and he caught up Eric’s hand in his own. “Try not to think too badly of him. William lives a life of careful control, and as much as we all hate overtime, he takes on more of it than anyone. You know that. We can’t expect him to handle absolutely _everything_ , and regardless of how stiff he can be at times you must admit that he does well holding our department together.”

Eric sighed and his mouth twitched. He finally grunted and reluctantly nodded. “Aye. He’s go’ his shite t’gether better than any o’er district manager I’ve seen. I’m just no’ ready tae throw Grell tae th’ wolves until we know beyond a doubt.”

He met Alan’s gaze again and his expression softened. “But if it’s too much fer ya, I’ll take on this assignment alone, partner. I dun’ want ya losing sleep o’er it.”

Alan shook his head. “You’ve always tried to protect me, but no, Eric. We are partners and I want to know what’s really going on. I’m with you on this.”

Eric smiled. He hadn’t really expected a different answer from this gentle yet determined reaper. “Then we’d best get goin’ on tha Grell patrol, aye?”

 

* * *

 

-To be continued 


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

Saturday came around, and Ronald Knox was checking his reflection in the full-length mirror on his closet door for perhaps the fifth time in ten minutes, nervously awaiting the phone call from his boss confirming where they would be meeting up for their date. Initially Will had planned to pick him up, but then he decided it would be better to meet up somewhere, instead. Ronald only knew that it would be somewhere away from the heart of Reaper London, where there was less risk of running into someone from work and being seen on a date together. He imagined Will had already devised some sort of excuse if they should still happen to be recognized; possibly writing it off as a business dinner or something.

Ronald heaved a sigh and he hoped he looked good enough. He had lots of clubbing outfits but not many for a more elegant, formal setting. His business suit would have to do, and it might even lend weight to any stories they might have to fabricate concerning why they were out together.

"I sure hope I know what I’m doing," he mumbled after running a comb through his feathered locks one last time to take care of a few out-of-place strands. He thought he shouldn’t be so nervous, considering his boss had already banged him in his office earlier in the week. This would be their first date though, and he wanted to look as good as possible for William.

Ronald jumped when his phone rang and he snatched it out of his blazer pocket, clearing his throat as he hit the answer button and brought it to his ear. “Foxy Knoxie here.”

He winced at his own choice of words and he blushed when Spears’ cultured, sensual voice answered him. “Good evening, agent Knox. That really is not an appropriate way to answer your work-issued phone when your supervisor calls, you know.”

"Uh, sorry boss." Ronald grimaced, picking up on the professional tone of Will’s voice. "That’s how I usually answer my home phone. Guess I got nervous." He could not for the life of him read the tone in Will’s voice.

"Nervous? How strange." William’s voice still had that damnably level, impossible to read tone. "Well then, I require your presence at the Silver Pearl restaurant in precisely one hour. That should give you time to put on something appropriate and make it here with at least ten minutes to spare, depending on the traffic."

Ronald gulped, feeling a little confused and flustered. This certainly didn’t feel like a date call to him. “What’s ‘appropriate’, sir?”

"Semi-formal," answered William. "Dress attire including appropriate shoes and a tie, if you please."

Ronald looked into the mirror again. “Would…my work clothes be okay? I haven’t had time t’ go out and shop for much else that fits the description, sir.”

"That would be fine."

Ronald took a soft, deep breath and he wondered if William’s idea of a date was totally different from his own. “Can I just ask what we’re doing, boss?”

"Discussing your raise," answered William.

Ronald blinked, letting go of the black tie he’d been straightening. “My wha—? I’m getting a raise?” This was turning out weirder by the minute. Not that he minded getting a bump in pay but he thought Will was taking him on a _real_ date.

"Yes," answered the supervisor, "your raise. The board has reviewed your performance over the past six months and it has been satisfactory enough to warrant an increase in your hourly pay. Included in this bonus is a complimentary dinner and a film of your choice. As I have undoubtedly explained to you before, Mr. Knox—good work is sometimes rewarded in this organization."

Ronald couldn’t decide if he was thrilled or disappointed. Maybe a little of both. He kind of felt like he’d been played. “Uh, great! I’ll be there on time, sir.”

He got the address of their meeting spot from William and he hung up, scratching the back of his head in confusion. “What th’ hell’s going on?” he muttered to himself. He knew that Will wanted to be discreet but that was all too convincing.

* * *

 

William was standing outside the appointed meeting place building by the large Neptune fountain when Ronald showed up. He wore a long black coat over his suit and he felt something like guilt when he noticed the openly confused look on the young agent’s face as Ron approached from the parking garage on the other side of the street. He decided to try and make up for any mixed signals he might have sent when Ronald closed the distance between them and stopped before him.

"Thank you for coming," William offered softly. His gaze roamed over the attractive young man and he nodded in approval. "You look nice."

Ronald’s mouth squirmed into an ironic smirk as he looked down at himself. “I look the same as I do every day at work, boss.”

"Will," corrected Spears. "Though I normally prefer ‘William’. We are on a date. No need to address me as ‘boss’ or ‘sir’ this evening."

Ronald’s perplexed expression did not fade. “I am so fucking confused…Will.”

The older reaper smirked a bit. “Given the circumstances, I shall let that vulgarity slide. Sit with me while we wait for our table, and I will explain.” He seated himself on the edge of the fountain and he gestured invitingly for Ronald to join him. When the blond did so, William looked him in the eye and elaborated.

"I should have explained to you that over the business phone, I would not be able to speak freely. The board doesn’t ordinarily review my phone logs or conversations, but they have been known in the past to do so if they suspect an employee in management of making use of company phone time for inappropriate, personal business. It was in our best interests that I not openly discuss the true purpose of our meeting arrangement, you understand."

"Well yeah, but couldn’t you have just called my home phone from yours?"

William nodded. “I could have, but that would not have lent to the ruse. Fortunately you saved all of these questions for when we met in person, rather than ask them over the phone. I admit that it was my mistake not to inform you beforehand.”

Ronald seemed to perk up a little, but he still appeared wary. “So I guess I’m not really getting a pay raise?”

"Oh, you are," assured William. "A small one, but a raise nonetheless. It provided me the perfect opportunity to take you on our first date without risking inspiring any untoward rumors."

"So I get a pay raise _and_ a date with you.” Ronald smirked. “You didn’t just set that up t’ get down my pants, did you?”

William raised a brow. “I believe you’ve already demonstrated that a raise is not necessary for that, Ronald.”

Ron blushed endearingly and lowered his gaze. William admired the way his lashes were highlighted with gold at the tips—a thing which he’d only recently begun to notice about his features. It was subtle enough to escape notice until up close.

"I’d say I’m worried ya think I’m a cheap bloke…I mean moral-wise…but this is a really nice place." Ronald lifted his gaze and twisted to look back at the fancy restaurant building. "Definitely better than anything I’m used to, and people don’t usually take their dates to places this nice if they think they’re cheap. I just…could I maybe get your home phone number? I know we’ll have to make time to see each other outside work but a phone call now and then without having to talk in code would be kind of nice. I know you’ve already got my home number, since you’re my boss. I’d just like t’ have yours too…and I know that makes me sound like a girl."

William was already reaching into his inner coat pocket to pull out a slip of paper he’d folded up and placed in there. He offered it to Ronald wordlessly and when the boy opened it and saw the elegant handwriting with Will’s name and home number he grinned.

"Jus so long as you understand that my being at home does not always mean I can spare the time to chat for long," warned Spears. "I do take my work home with me at times, when I am not sleeping over in my office."

"Ya sleep in your office?" Ronald’s obvious surprise only lasted for a moment, though. "Oh, of course you do. You’ve got that folding futon in there and your own private shower and bath. I think you have a little closet in there too, right?"

William nodded. “Convenient perks for those of us who spend more time in the office than at home.”

Ronald smiled at him softly as he tucked the slip of paper safely into his jacket. “I promise I’m not like Grell. I don’t need t’ stay on the phone for hours, but it’d be nice to be able to call and wish you a good night sometimes. You know…tuck you in over the phone. And hey, if you ever want me to stay late and help you with some paperwork and such, I would be fine with that.”

William stared at him for a moment, taking in his boyish good looks and recalling how it had felt to be inside of him. “That is a generous offer, Ronald, but we wouldn’t be doing any paperwork, I’m afraid.”

For a second Ronald looked confused, but then he saw the smolder in William’s gaze and he flushed, looking down at the cobbled pavement with a grin. He nudged the older reaper’s shoe with one of his and he looked at him sidelong. “Don’t think ya could keep your hands off me, huh?”

William didn’t even try to pretend denial of that. He kept his gaze locked with Ronald’s and he shook his head. The boy visibly swallowed and blew a low whistle, reaching up to tug on his tie a bit to loosen it.

"Damn, boss…when you look at me like that I—"

"Excuse me," called a woman’s voice over the sound of the fountain, interrupting Ronald’s sentence. "Mr. Spears? Your table for two is ready, if you would like to come inside and be seated."

William allowed his imagination to finish Ronald’s statement for him, guessing it would have been something unrestrained, honest and sexual. He stood up and smiled politely and pleasantly at the hostess, and then he placed one gloved hand flat against the small of Ronald’s back as the younger reaper stood up with him.

"Excellent. Well then, shall we?"

* * *

 

Ronald stared at the halved lobster that sat on his plate beside his filet mignon, wondering how to begin eating it. He’d never had lobster prepared any way before. He watched William drizzle some garlic butter onto his and begin deftly cutting into the pale meat. With a shrug, Ronald tried mimicking him. He wasn’t nearly as practiced as William, and he unwittingly poked his tongue out the corner of his mouth in concentration.

"How do you like your lobster?" questioned Will after taking a bite of his and swallowing.

The inquiry distracted Ronald and the piece he was trying to dig out of the shell went flying over his shoulder to land on the floor, catapulted by his clumsy attempt. He blushed and bit his lip, looking at his boss sheepishly. “Dunno yet. I guess the floor gets the first taste. Um…sorry.”

William smirked, and he reached out to pull Ronald’s plate closer to his side of the table. “Here, allow me.”

Ronald watched as his date used his utensils to cut up and loosen the meat for him, feeling like a helpless child in the face of William’s easy grace. He was surprised when the older man scooped a bite onto his fork and held it out to Ronald, offering to feed it to him across the table. A little smile curved the blond’s lips at the romantic gesture and he leaned forward to accept the morsel.

"Mmm," he said with a nod as the buttery, sweet flavor bathed his tongue. "Dat’s good!"

"Excellent," approved William. He replaced Ronald’s fork and knife on his plate and he slid it back over to him. "Just try not to speak with your mouth full."

Ronald chewed and swallowed, again embarrassed. He felt like such an unlikely couple; him with his lack of culture and William with his impeccable table manners and class. By the look in the older reapers eye, however, William didn’t seem to mind. Ronald never would have thought the man would have made such a public romantic gesture either…not even on a date. It seemed he was learning things every day about William T. Spears that most would never have even guessed. Just how many layers might there be…how many dimensions would he discover of this mysterious, stoic reaper’s personality as their relationship grew?

"I’m really looking forward to learning more about you," admitted Ronald bluntly, picking up his utensils to cut into his steak next. "I always knew there was a lot more to you than what everyone sees at work, Will."

William forked up some of his side salad, keeping his eyes on his task. “We all have our masks, Ronald. Well, most of us.” He gave the younger man a subtle smile as he looked at him, pausing with his forkful of leafy salad halfway to his lips. “I daresay you are one of the most open reapers I have ever met. You speak exactly what’s on your mind. I find that…refreshing—though it can be troublesome in the workplace.”

Ron chuckled and speared a bite of steak with his fork. “Yeah, I know I need to start censoring myself a little better, but if I really always spoke my mind I’d have come onto you a lot sooner than I did—especially if I knew I’d get these kind of results.”

"Frankly, I’m glad that you saw fit to wait," confessed William. "Any sooner and I might have been too reluctant to respond. No matter how attractive I may find someone, I must get to know them a bit before even considering dating them."

Ronald didn’t find that surprising. He winked at the older man. “Good thing I was too chicken t’ act on it when I first started crushing on you then. So uh…do ya like what you’ve seen of who I am so far?”

"We would not be on this date, otherwise." William sipped his wine and followed up with a sip of water. "I’m considering an order of oysters, since we could not decide on an appetizer when we first sat down. Have you ever tried them, Ronald?"

"You mean raw? Uh, no. I’ve had ‘em fried at the local fish ‘n chips shop by my flat, but never fancy or raw." Ronald wasn’t sure he could bring himself to eat them raw, either. He was only so adventurous with food and he had to refrain from telling William that he thought they looked like loogies in a half shell.

William huffed softly in an amused way, smirking at him. “If I were to guess by the look on your face, you don’t find the thought of it very appealing.”

"Sorry Will." Ronald mentally kicked himself for being so easy to read. How the hell he’d managed to hide his attraction to this man from most people for so long was a mystery to him. "I don’t want to be a party pooper or anything, but I don’t want you to waste money on something I might not be able t’ eat, either. I’m game to at least try it, though."

"You are more open minded than some." Will scooped up more lobster. "Shall we compromise, then? Rather than order them raw, I will order half a dozen Kilpatrick and a half dozen Rockefeller. They’ll be cooked and dressed, so you may find them more palatable. Should you try both and find neither to your liking, I shall finish them off and have my entree boxed to take home as leftovers."

"You couldn’t take the oysters home as leftovers?" Ronald took a swallow of his beer and forked up some more steak.

"I’m afraid oysters don’t keep as well as the items on my entree," explained William, "and I would like for both of us to have room for dessert, so better to finish off the more perishable item and take the rest home, I think."

"Hmm, you’re the boss." Ronald popped his steak into his mouth and sighed with enjoyment as he chewed it. After swallowing, he leaned forward a little to whisper to his date. "Ya know what they say about oysters, right?"

William smirked around his wine glass and met his gaze. “Yes, I am aware.”

"So is it true?" pressed the blond. "Am I getting lucky tonight?"

The older man chose to be evasive. “Perhaps.”

Ronald chuckled, happy for the banter. He liked this flirty side of his boss and now that he was sampling it, he didn’t find it strange at all. Like everything else William did, his flirtation was subtle…classy. His eyes spoke louder than his words with the way they held Ronald’s and gleamed with promise. The blond was starting to think William’s way of flirting was a lot sexier than blurting out pickup lines or outright invitations to fuck. He couldn’t help but stare at him as Will got the attention of their waiter and ordered their late appetizers. Ronald sincerely hoped he really was going to get lucky tonight.

* * *

 

As it turned out, Ronald found the Rockefeller oysters to his liking when they came and so William only had one and then let him have the rest, while he finished off the Kilpatrick selection. They had peaches in a thick brandy sauce for dessert and then they boxed up their leftovers to take with them. Will explained where he was parked so that Ron could follow him to their next destination, and then he escorted him to his car.

"Won’t the food go bad while we’re at the movie?" worried Ronald. "I mean, just sitting in the car un-chilled for a couple of hours? Maybe we ought to drop them at home and then meet up at the theater."

"Actually, there is no need for that," explained William. "I rented a suite at a hotel on this side of town for the night, and it comes equipped with a mini refrigerator. We can stop by there, drop off your car in the parking lot and take mine to the film."

"Oh." Ronald’s hopes for a very happy ending to their date increased, and a thrill of excitement went through him. He knew William probably wouldn’t want to risk being seen together entering either of their apartments, so he couldn’t help but hope Will got that suite so they could stay the night together. "Um…will we be going back to the hotel after the show? I mean not just to get my car and leftovers…"

William watched him as Ronald unlocked his coupe and put the leftovers in the back seat. “That depends on you, Ronald. You are welcome to join me in my suite afterwards if you wish, but there is no obligation.”

Ronald turned to face him and he grinned. “No obligation, huh? Like you’ve really got to twist my arm.”

Guessing that William wouldn’t mind since they were away from traffic and pedestrians, Ronald boldly reached out to grab the other man’s tie and pull him closer for a kiss. Will’s free arm went around him and he held his leftover box out of the way as he returned the kiss, making Ronald feel week in the knees with the sensual caress of his tongue. Just when Ron was about ready to suggest skipping the movie and just heading to the suite, William released him and stepped back.

"I quite like your way of thanking me for the meal," breathed Will, his eyes intense with desire. "I shall pull out onto this street so that you can follow behind me, Ronald."

The blond watched him depart to retrieve his car and he sighed, letting his gaze feast on his backside. Unfortunately the long jacket William had on was obscuring the view of his ass, but even so he was a very attractive figure.

"I am so gonna make out with you at this movie," promised Ron in a whisper.

He whistled a little tune as he got into his car and buckled in. Yeah, tonight was going to be great.

* * *

 

The partnered lovers waited across the street from Grell’s apartment after Alan confirmed he was at home with a phone call. Alan hated lying to his friend, but he had to have some excuse for calling and Eric suggested inviting him out to lunch with them on Sunday. He reasoned that they found no evidence of wrongdoing then they could make the offer a reality and therefore it was not a lie. He also insisted that of the two of them, Alan was the one most likely to invite anyone save Ronald on a lunch outing, and so the younger agent finally agreed. They stood in the shadows together in the small park diagonal to the apartment building, waiting for the light to go out in the third floor window of Grell’s flat, or for the crimson reaper to emerge.

"I still think it was a demon in human disguise," muttered Eric to his companion. "Looks like I’ll be buying us all lunch on Sunday."

"We have to be sure, like you said," reminded Alan in a whisper.

"Aye," sighed the Scotsman. "I jus’ cannae believe even Sutcliff would be so reckless as tae—"

"Shh, come here!" Alan tugged the bigger man’s hand and pulled him behind the trunk of one of the large park trees resembling the oaks found in the mortal realm. "I see him coming out of the building."

Eric quieted down and he watched with Alan as Grell Sutcliff stepped out of his apartment’s main entryway, carrying a leather tote bag slung over one shoulder. He immediately began to head for the nearest open portal to the mortal realm, and the partners glanced at each other before carefully following him.

* * *

 

The portal took them to one of the poorer districts of London, where the doxies and their pimps worked the streets. Grell went into a cheap hotel and Eric and Alan waited for nearly twenty minutes before a familiar man wearing a butler’s suit and a long black coat emerged wearing a pair of round, wire-framed glasses. Alan tensed when he noticed that the seemingly meek man wore the exact same white and red striped bow tie that Grell usually wore. How their coworker could have disguised himself so thoroughly was still beyond Alan to comprehend, but the damning evidence just kept coming.

"Maybe…maybe it’s some other creature that managed to overpower Grell and take his tie," Alan whispered hopefully. "Should one of us follow him while the other goes inside to check on Sutcliff?"

Eric compressed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the butler. “You go in while I follow,” he decided. “Jus’ be careful, Alan.”

The smaller man nodded and he gave Eric’s hand a squeeze before starting toward the hotel. The butler was out of immediate view now, having turned down an intersecting street. Eric took to the rooftops to silently follow him while his partner quickly searched the hotel for Grell. Both of them knew that Alan’s hopeful theory was unlikely to be true. He himself had heard the butler’s mistress call him by Grell’s name. Still, they both clung to the increasingly thinner chance that their coworker wasn’t responsible for the Ripper murders and it was all just some fluke or misunderstanding.

Denial was a powerful thing; particularly when personal attachments came into play.

* * *

 

Will had arranged a private VIP viewing of the movie—which made it much more convenient for Ronald to play without worrying about onlookers. He nibbled the supervisor’s ear playfully as they watched the previews and despite William’s usually reserved nature, by the end of the film he couldn’t say that either of them watched more than fifteen minutes of it. He’d never made out in a theater before, but his date’s sexual appeal and drugging little kisses tore down his restraint, and he shocked himself by not stopping Ronald when the younger reaper unzipped his trousers and went down on him. Experiencing Ronald’s oral skills again finalized William’s decision to bed him after their date, and he was grateful that the sound system in the theater drowned out his moans to the audience below. The credits began rolling just as Ronald finished him off, and William decided it was the best movie he’d ever seen—despite having seen little to none of it.

They returned to his suite and in no time at all, their clothes were scattered over the floor and the sounds of their vigorous passion filled the room. Will had Ronald against the wall, over the dining table, in the bed and finally in the shower before they were both too spent to continue. They fell asleep in one another’s arms in the big, king sized bed and it seemed he’d only been slumbering for a few minutes before the beeping of his phone roused William. He grumbled with annoyance as he eased Ronald’s arm off of him and rolled out of bed to locate the device, wishing that work could leave him alone for just one full night. The one bright side to it was that they’d waited to disturb him until after his date.

Nude and disoriented, the Dispatch supervisor slipped his glasses on and felt around for his jacket. Upon locating it, he retrieved his phone and checked his messages. He recalled the mission he’d sent Humphries and his partner on when he saw the text, and his eyes narrowed with anger.

"Damn you, Sutcliff," he muttered. There was no help for it, though. This was the final straw. He sent a responsive text to Alan informing him that he would take care of the matter himself, and to meet him at headquarters later. After that, he clicked on the table lamp on its dimmest setting and he began to get dressed.

"Muuh," groaned Ronald in protest when the light did what the beeping had failed to do and woke him up. "Will? What’s…going on?" He lifted his head off the pillow and squinted at the taller man.

"I’ve an emergency call from the office," explained William, fastening his belt. "I must take care of this, but you can go back to sleep. The suite is already paid for, so if I don’t return by checkout time tomorrow just take my dinner leftovers with you. I will try to meet up somewhere with you later, should that happen."

"Can’t anyone else take care of it?" Ronald sat up and rubbed his eyes, frowning.

"I am afraid I must deal with this matter personally," answered William with some regret. He looked at Ronald as he slipped into his shirt and began to button it up. "How are you feeling?" He’d gotten a bit rough with him a couple of times. William was fast learning that Ronald brought it out in him. The flirty little devil tore down his self control like no other he’d ever been with.

"My arse is really sore," answered Ronald, and then he grinned and relaxed against the pillows, stretching. "But it’s great."

William huffed softly and he put on his arm garters to shorten his sleeves a bit. “Well then, perhaps you should have a warm bath when you wake up. Take advantage of the spa feature in the bathroom here while you can.”

"Oh, yeah! I forgot all about that!" Ronald sighed, looking him up and down. "Maybe you’ll get back in time t’ join me."

"That would be lovely, but I fear the possibility is slim. I shall contact you by nine in the morning if it looks as though I won’t make it back. Don’t rob yourself of a treat waiting for me."

Ronald sighed. “Okay, boss. I’ll keep my fingers crossed but if you can’t make it back, I’ll take advantage of that tub. Thanks for a great night, sexy.”

William nearly smiled, and he inclined his head in acknowledgement. “You are quite welcome…though I believe I should be thanking you as well.” Never one to go on the job sloppy—even in such a situation as this—William retrieved his comb from a pocket and spared a moment to groom his hair into place before gathering his coat.

"I shall speak with you later either way, Ronald. Sleep well."

* * *

 

When he reached the coordinates given to him by Alan and witnessed Grell’s struggle with the demon, William was sorely tempted to let the creature finish him off. He even waited until the last moment to intervene, so disgusted by the crimson reaper’s actions that he honestly believed it would be fitting for Sutcliff to die at the hands of a demon spawn. Mortals that committed such crimes were put to death as punishment, so why not a reaper? Still, he was Grell’s supervisor and it would be irresponsible of him to let him meet his demise without at least seeing to it that he got a proper trial.

"I can tell you who killed the kid’s parents!" Grell cried in desperation.

William scowled. _~Sutcliff, you bloody imbecile!~_

Now the redhead had earned yet another mark against himself by offering knowledge concerning mortal demise that was forbidden to communicate. With a sigh of frustration, William straightened from his crouching position on the rooftop and he extended his death scythe to block what would have most surely been a killing blow.

The demon calling himself “Sebastian”, his young master and Grell all looked up at him, and Sutcliff—the foolish creature—became immediately starry-eyed as though William were a knight in shining armor.

"I apologize for interrupting," William called down politely. He introduced himself to the mortal and his pet demon, and then he adjusted his glasses with his scythe and narrowed his eyes at Grell. "I’ve come to retrieve _that_ reaper _there_.”

He very nearly said: _"that troublesome thing there"_ , but one mustn’t allow frustration to lead to uncivilized language.

"William," cried Grell through bloodied, swollen lips. "Oh, William! Did you come to save—"

Sutcliff’s sentence was cut off when William demonstrated his displeasure with him by jumping down off the roof and landing directly on his head, smashing his face into the pavement. He remained calmly standing there as his subordinate twitched, and he opened his ledger to read out the charges being filed against Grell.

"Grell Sutcliff, you have violated several regulations, including killing people not on the death list, unauthorized modification of your death scythe, and offering someone strictly classified information regarding the identity of his relative’s murder."

He finally stepped off of the back of Grell’s head and he gave Sebastian a stiff bow—hating himself for doing so but following the protocols of professional etiquette regardless. “I apologize for all of the trouble this wretch has caused. Here, please accept my card.”

He drew said card from within his blazer with his death scythe and he extended it to the demon. After exchanging veiled but polite insults with the demon, William collected Grell none too gently, along with his chainsaw scythe. He was none too pleased to have the weapon hurled at him from behind by Sebastian, but William retained his cool and caught it deftly by the blade between his gloved fingers before excusing himself and creating a portal back to his realm.

* * *

 

Ronald was just starting to drift off to sleep again when his work phone went off. He groaned and reached out for it, finding it where he’d left it on the bedside table. “Knox, here,” he yawned, hoping it was William calling to tell him he was on his way back. He was graced with no such luck.

"Ronnie, it’s Eric. I need yeh tae come into tha office right away."

Ronald sat up with a frown. “It’s like two in the morning! What’s up?”

"It’s no’ something we should talk about o’er tha phone," answered the Scotsman in a somber voice. "Please jus’ come in an’ meet me an’ Alan in our office. It’s important, kid."

Ronald’s heart thudded in his chest and his mind went through several different scenarios that might be the reason behind this call. “Is someone hurt?”

Eric hesitated. “Maybe. Jus’ come.”

"Is th’ boss okay?" Demanded Ronald, his thoughts immediately going to dark places.

"Will’s fine," assured Eric. "Jus’ get here an’ stop asking questions. There’s something we need tae talk about face tae face and it cannae wait ‘till tha day starts."

Ronald swallowed. He wondered if someone from Dispatch had seen him and William out together after all and reported it. If that was the case and the board made a stink about it, then Eric would probably be their next choice to take over the position of supervisor. Maybe he was calling him in to tell him they were both facing demotions or worse for misconduct. While Eric had encouraged him to go ahead and make a move on their boss, he had no control over the board’s decisions when it came to disciplinary measures and the man might be stuck in a situation where it came down to him to lay down the law.

"Um, okay. I’ll get dressed and head right over." Ronald tried not to sound so anxious but his voice squeaked a little at the end of his sentence, and he hung up before he could repeat the embarrassing sound.

"Shit…I’d better brace myself," he sighed, and he went to the little fridge to grab one of the mini bottles of whiskey and down it before getting dressed.

* * *

 

Eric paced in his office as he and his partner waited for Ronald to arrive. Alan sat at his desk and he watched the Scotsman helplessly, sharing his anxiety over the situation. “You don’t think Spears would _kill_ Grell over this, do you?”

Eric stopped and he looked at him, his handsome face expressing uncertainty for a moment. Finally he shook his head. “No. Even if he wanted tae reap him, he’d ne’er break protocol like tha’. I cannae say whether he’d stop tha’ demon if Grell starts losing tha fight, though. Sutcliff’s been a thorn in his side fer a long time an’ I think Spears is finally reaching tha end of his rope wi’ him.”

Alan sighed and he looked down absently at the crystal, pyramid shaped paperweight on his desk. “I know she’s done a very bad thing, but I really hope they’ll at least give Miss Sutcliff a chance to make up for it. Something had to drive him to snap this way, Eric. Grell has always been…volatile…but never like this.”

Eric looked out the window at the overcast night sky, thinking of the manner in which Grell and his accomplish dispatched those prostitutes. “I’ve go’ tae wonder if it has anything tae do wi’ Grell’s…uh…identity.” He really didn’t know how to refer to it in a nice way and he hoped his partner wouldn’t snap at him. “It’s sweet how Ronnie an’ you treat him like a girl an’ say ‘she’ an’ ‘her’ sometimes, but no’ everyone can remember tha’. If this is all ‘cause of frustration o’er him wanting tae be a woman, I’ve go’ tae wonder if this was all done out o’ spite because they’ve go’ wha’ he wants.”

Alan bit his lip. “That was…unusually observant of you, Eric. I didn’t even consider that myself. I’ve been theorizing that he simply snapped under pressure and finds some twisted relief from it by cutting victims up. You may be right, though. He’s only targeted women that we know of…and women that most people won’t even miss that won’t inspire much serious investigation. The way he cut out that one victim’s womb…” Alan shuddered at the memory of viewing that cinematic record.

"If Will brings him back alive, we’ll find out sooner or later," predicted Eric. "Let’s jus’ worry about how we’re gonna break this news tae Ronnie. He’s gonna take it pretty hard, I’m sure."

Alan sighed. “Poor Grell…and poor Ronald.”

Eric raised a brow at him. “’ _Poor Grell_ ’? Alan, he’s turned into a psychopath! He butchered those girls while they were still alive an’ kicking! I’ve reaped plenty in mah life but I’ve ne’er done it in such a cruel, slow manner! Feel sorry for Ronnie ‘cause of how this is gonna hit him. Feel sorry fer those girls. Dun’ feel sorry fer tha sadistic shite tha’—”

"Eric," interrupted Alan urgently, standing up. "You’re angry and tired, and I understand. Even though you don’t usually feel sympathy for your marks, you’ve always dispatched them with mercy and you’ve got making it quick and painless down to an art. Seeing one of us do that must be like an insult to you, and I get that. I feel betrayed by what Grell did too, but I _do_ feel sorry for her. Do you really believe that Miss Sutcliff just woke up one day and decided on a whim to become a murderer? You said it yourself—something drove him to this. He needs help; not our judgment. Please…if only for Ronald’s sake…don’t give up on Grell.”

Eric buckled under his lover’s sweet, solemn plea and he sighed. He crossed the room to him and he circled around behind him to rub Alan’s tense shoulders, leaning over him to kiss his cheek and whisper into his ear. “I’ve said it before an’ I’ll say it again, lover: ye’ve go’ tha most generous heart I’ve e’er known. A’right…fer Ronnie’s sake I’ll keep mah anger tae myself an’ try tae get o’er it. No’ sure Spears is gonna do tha same, though.”

Alan leaned back against him for comfort. “I hope to gods he doesn’t kill him.”

"Aye…me too," admitted the Scotsman. There was a knock at the door and he reluctantly pulled away from his partner’s warmth. "Come in."

Ronald walked in with hesitant steps, his gaze flicking between the both of them warily, as though he expected reprimand or an attack. Eric couldn’t really blame him; it was unusual to get a phone call in the dark hours without explanation, unless a reaper was on call. He wished he could have reassured him over the phone before he came in but as stated: this was not a conversation to have that way.

"Why don’t you close the door and have a seat, Ronald?" Alan suggested kindly. "I’ll pour you some water."

Ronald visibly gulped and did as the brunet suggested, looking like he was marching to his own funeral. “What’d I do, guys? Am I in trouble?”

Eric forced a smile and he shook his head. “Nah, nothin’ like tha’, lad. This isnae really about ya.”

Ronald frowned and he thanked Alan as he was handed a glass of water poured from the pitcher on Alan’s desk. “Then what th’ hell is it about? I’ve been sweating balls th’ whole time since ya called me, thinking I screwed up and was getting canned!”

Alan gave Eric a remonstrating look, having criticized his method of getting Ronald to come in. The Scotsman shrugged and winced a bit. “Sorry ‘bout tha’, kid. I jus’ couldnae think of how tae put it an’ like I said, it’s no’ something tae be discussed o’er tha phone. It’s about Sutcliff.”

Ronald blinked. “Senpai? Is he okay? Somethin’ happen to him?”

Eric started to open his mouth to answer, but then the sound of the reaper in question’s shouts echoed from the corridors outside.

"Will, please! Have mercy! They were only mortals, after all! Aaarrgh! Oh, my haaaiiir!"

Ronald stood up abruptly. “What th’ fuck?”

"Ron, wait," called Alan, but the young man was already across the room and to the door.

Eric and Alan went after him, and the former grabbed Ronald around the waist to stop him when he tried to go to the kicking, screaming redhead being dragged down the hall by a stony-faced William. Grell was bleeding from the ears, nose and mouth, and drops of it smeared on the tiled floor behind him as he was unceremoniously pulled along by the hair. His face was bruised and swollen, but it was already beginning to heal due to his reaper regeneration.

"Boss, what’s going on?" Demanded Ronald with wide eyes. "What’d ya do to him?"

"Hardly anything," answered William coldly, only briefly expressing some surprise at seeing Ronald there. Other late night staff had come out of their respective offices and cubicles to see what was going on. "He is fortunate I haven’t reaped him myself. Do not interfere, Mr. Knox."

"B-but what’d he do? Why’s he in trouble? Dammit, let _go_ of me, Eric!”

The Scotsman refused to loosen his hold on Ronald, and William paused to succinctly announce Grell’s crimes. “The reaper Grell Sutcliff is being charged with severe violations of our code of conduct. Upon investigation, proof was discovered that he himself is responsible for all of the unlisted deaths in the Ripper case. He also reaped his mortal ally upon her failure to murder her own nephew, and he has been using an unauthorized death scythe. Finally, he is guilty of offering to exchange classified secrets with mortals.”

Ronald stared at his mentor with wide eyes. “S-Senpai?”

"Ronnie, tell him," begged Grell looking up at him with eyes still swollen from whatever beating he’d received. "Those whores were just waste to be disposed of! They are beneath us, and you know I would never do anything to—aaahhh!"

William had yanked Grell’s hair roughly, dragging him another couple of feet. “You will cease your mad ranting this instant, Grell Sutcliff. You are an utter disgrace to this organization.”

He continued to drag the protesting redhead along with him, and he handed over the bloodied chainsaw he was carrying to Alan. “See to it that this is placed in lockup.”

"Spears senpai…where are you taking him?" Ronald’s voice was desperate and frightened, and Eric hugged him tighter in an attempt to comfort him.

"To lockup," answered William, "where he will await trial and punishment for his crimes. Let this serve as a reminder to all of you that the board does not take betrayal of our laws lightly."

Ronald slumped in Eric’s arms and the Scotsman dragged him back into his office, while Alan joined them and closed the door behind him to muffle Grell’s frantic shrieks and pleas.

"Was it really necessary for him to drag Grell through the office wing that way, in front of everyone?" sighed Alan. Upon noticing a drop of blood falling from the blade of the confiscated scythe, he quickly caught it in his hand before it could hit the beige carpet and he carried the chainsaw hastily to the little bathroom in the corner of their office to rinse it off.

"Ya heard wha’ tha man said," Eric reminded, turning Ronald around in his arms to hold him close. "He’s setting an example. Probably would have done it in broad daylight when everyone was in tha office, if he could have. Will’s no’ playing around wi’ this."

"I…I did this to Senpai," Ronald said softly against Eric’s chest.

The Scotsman loosened his embrace to look down at the younger reaper with a frown. “Eh? How do ya figure, Ronnie? Of everyone in this organization, ye’ve probably been Grell’s best friend.”

"But I’m th’ one that turned him in," insisted Ronald. "I went to Will…er…the boss and told him Grell’s been acting weird. If it weren’t for me this might not be happening to him!"

Ronald’s eyes were starting to glisten with tears as he looked up at Eric, his expression pleading with the older man to help him make sense of it all. “Eric…um…Dad…I messed up!”

Eric felt a flood of emotion at those unexpected words. Ronald had never once referred to him as his father since finding out about their blood ties. Both of them had decided it was best to go on just being best mates, but now, Knox clearly needed a father more than a friend. Putting his best foot forward, Eric shook his head and he cupped the boy’s distressed face in his hands.

"No, Ronnie. Yeh didnae mess up. Spears has been suspecting something was off fer a while now. I dinnae know ya were tha one tha’ spoke up, but it prompted him tae investigate further. If yeh hadn’t said something, this might have gone on a lo’ longer an’ gotten a lo’ worse."

Alan had come back out of the bathroom and he leaned Grell’s illegal scythe against the wall to dry. His gaze was soft with sympathy as he approached the two of them, and he reached out to rub Ronald’s back, offering his comfort as well. “You were concerned for your friend and mentor, Ronald. You did nothing wrong by approaching your boss about it. Grell’s rampage had to be stopped and if anything, you may have saved his life by coming forward with your concerns.”

"How?" Ronald turned in Eric’s embrace to look at Alan with disbelief, a tear spilling from his right eye. "I know what they do t’ reapers that break too many laws! They’re gonna kill her!"

"It would have to be an exceptionally severe list of violations for them to execute a guilty reaper," Alan soothed.

Eric nodded. “Aye, like killing off a whole town, killing off our own kind or meddling wi’ life an’ death tae tha point where it puts tha balance at risk. Wha’ Grell did was bad, but they aren’t going tae execute him o’er it.”

"If you hadn’t intervened, it could have come to that," Alan murmured. "But Miss Sutcliff has been stopped from carrying it further and death willing, she can be rehabilitated. At worse, Grell could face incarceration for a while and be discharged from service to Dispatch for his actions. We just won’t know until the board reviews the charges and makes a decision."

Ronald turned back around and like a lost little boy, he hugged Eric and buried his face against his chest. “Are you both sure?” His voice was muffled, but clear enough to make out.

"We’re sure," promised Eric. "He’ll face some stiff penalties fer wha’ he’s done but it’s no’ bad enough tae execute him. Tha laws concernin’ killing mortals no’ on tha death list are kinda lax compared tae the laws against killing o’er reapers or unauthorized screwing wi’ cinematic records, kid. It’s up tae how willing Grell is tae reform an’ how tha higher-ups see it, but he’ll live."

"I…I wanna talk to Mum," sniffed Ronald.

Eric glanced at his partner and he offered a suggestion. “Tell yeh wha’, why dun’ ya come home wi’ us t’night an’ sleep in tha spare room. When ya wake up in tha morning yeh can call yer mum on our home phone. Yer too upset an’ it’s too late, righ’ now. Ya need a good rest.”

Ronald sniffed again and nodded, pulling back with a look of faint embarrassment on his reddened face. Alan handed the young man a tissue and Ronald wiped his eyes and nose with it. “Yeah…you’re…you’re right,” he said after taking a shaky breath. “I don’t want t’ wake her up balling like a little kid. Alan senpai, are you okay with me staying over?”

"Of course," assured Alan with a gentle smile. He patted Ronald’s shoulder again. "You’re welcome to stay with us as long as you like, Ron. We have the room and right now, I think we could all use one another’s comfort."

Ronald nodded once more and he tried to compose himself. “Thanks. I’m real sorry I turned into a baby. I was just shocked. I figured Grell was on something or depressed. Never thought he was doing all this.”

"None of us did," excused Eric. "No’ even of Grell. Come on, let’s get ou’ of here an’ try tae get some rest."

* * *

 

-To be continued   


	8. Chapter 8

Ronald was faintly humiliated by his behavior the day before. The morning after was awkward as he sat down to breakfast with Eric and Alan, but neither of them said anything about his breakdown. He hadn’t gotten the chance to call up his mum to tell her what happened—or rather he’d passed up the chance because he wanted to wait until he could speak of it to her without crying again. He’d never felt so lost…not even when he found out the truth of his parentage. He regretted collapsing in a weeping fit against Eric like a little boy running to his daddy, but that was precisely what the Scotsman was to him at that moment. Now he was back to being his friend and to his credit, Eric made no mention of it. Instead he encouraged Ronald to see if he could get clearance to visit Grell.

"I know ye’ve go’ questions, Ronnie." Eric turned at the stoplight, and up ahead they could see headquarters. "Maybe Grell would be more open wi’ yeh about it than he’d be wi’ the interrogating officers. If ya could convince him tae cooperate an’ do everything required o’ him, it might knock some time off his sentence an’ help him get leniency."

"I don’t think the boss would let me do that," sighed Ronald. He kept picturing the cold, merciless look on Will’s face the night before, when he’d dragged Grell in by the hair. He’d never seen William look that way before. The man was usually emotionless on the outside and while he did commonly express some irritation with Grell, Ronald had never seen him look outright murderous before.

"I think," Alan said carefully, turning in the car seat to look back at Ronald, "that if anyone could convince William to allow a visit, it would be you."

Ronald bit his lip at Alan’s subtle reminder that not everyone was unaware of the sort of relationship that had developed between him and the supervisor of their district. “You really think so?”

Alan nodded. “I do. It may take some sweet talking on your part to convince him, but Mister Spears is a civilized man at his core. Even if he has no sympathy for Grell, he may bend for you.”

Ronald scratched his head in thought as they pulled into the parking garage. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I guess it’s worth a try.”

 

* * *

 

"No. Absolutely not." William put down his pen and gazed at Ronald levelly.

"B-but," stammered Ron, his carefully crafted speech flying right out of his head. He hadn’t expected Will to be amicable about the request, but he wasn’t prepared for such a flat, final response. "Will…sir…Grell’s my mentor." It was lame and he knew it.

"Yes, and a poor mentor he’s been indeed." William sat back in his chair and laced his fingers together over his stomach. "I never should have assigned that wretch to you. It’s a wonder his poor examples haven’t had a more negative impact on your performance."

Ronald lowered his gaze, wracking his brain for some kind of rebuttal. “Everyone makes mistakes, sir. Even you.”

William raised a brow.

"It’s true," insisted Ronald. "I know all about your first reaping assignment together, and how he saved your arse. I know it bugs you t’ think about it and he’s probably the last reaper you’d want to owe your life to, but if it weren’t for him you might not be here now."

William sighed. “Be that as it may, he has violated a multitude of codes and he has been getting away with poor conduct for far too long as it is. I do not want him poisoning you with his nonsense.”

"He won’t," promised Ronald. "I know he’s sick, Will. He needs help, but I don’t think he’s a lost cause! Please, sir…just let me talk to him for a little while. I know I can convince him to work with Dispatch and get better! If he knows at least one person’s on his side—"

"But the question is, Ronald," interrupted William sternly, "is he on yours? You weren’t there to witness him slaughtering his own partner in crime. He turned on her and he cut her down without warning. Though she was only a mortal, consider the ramifications of that and what it could mean to anyone else foolish enough to call him their ally. Consider what it could mean to Dispatch if—Styx forbid—the board ever grants him his badge again to return to reaping duty. Suppose you are out on assignment with him and he suddenly decides to turn on you."

"He wouldn’t do that."

"Oh?" William reached for a folder in the pile on his desk and he opened it, spinning it around to face Ronald. "See for yourself what became of the last person to put her trust in him. Go ahead, Ronald. Have a close look at the quality of your mentor’s trustworthiness."

Ronald swallowed as he looked down at the photographs of Grell’s last victim—the woman who happened to be his partner in the serial killings. They were forensic photos, taken by a human manufactured camera. In one of the photos was the creepy old mortician Ron had seen around mortal London. He was measuring the body for a coffin, presumably.

"Okay, so he flipped on her," he admitted in defeat. "Doesn’t mean he’d do that t’ me, though! I’m his Ronnie! He took me to buy my first formal suit and he paid for it from his own purse! He’s like a sister to me."

William shook his head in perplexity at Ronald’s word usage, but he said nothing about it, having grown used to hearing Ronald and Alan both address Grell in feminine terms. “I understand how you feel, Ronald, but—”

"No you don’t!" Ronald stood up, growing upset. "You don’t understand how I feel, boss! You’ve never been close to anyone, as far as I know. You’d marry your bloody job if you could, because it’s all you really care about!"

He was ranting, forgetting who he was addressing. Ronnie didn’t really mean any of it—he was just regurgitating things he’d heard others say around the water cooler. He’d even gotten onto people for talking about William that way more than once, and now here he was spouting those same cruel things because he couldn’t stand the cool, detached way William was looking at him.

His accusation got a response. William’s eyes narrowed and he stood up as well. “That will be quite enough, Ronald Knox. We will address your baseless accusation another time. My answer remains the same and you are dismissed from my office. Go now, before I decide to penalize you for your disrespect.”

Ronald stood firm and he hated the way his lower lip quivered. “No. If you can say it then so can I.”

"I will not ask again," warned William. "Must I call for security to escort you out? I would hate to suspend you from duty when you’ve come so far, Agent Knox."

Ronald lasted for approximately two more seconds before his superior’s icy glare made him cave. “Fine.” He turned to go, but he paused at the door and looked over his shoulder. “I know you’ve got a heart in there somewhere, Will. I hope you find it soon.”

* * *

 

After leaving Spear’s office, Ronald had to go to the men’s room to collect himself again. He was so angry with Will that he feared he’d go back in there and say something that he could never take back. He still wanted him…still cared for him…but right now the man didn’t feel like his boyfriend at all.

"But he is my boyfriend," reasoned Knox softly, seated on the closed lid of the toilet in one of the bathroom stalls. He’d pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, propping his feet on the edge of the toilet lid. He stared at the wall, where some joker had drawn a caricature of Will getting pissed on by a giant penis. Ronald frowned and a fresh sort of anger washed over him. William used his own private bathroom in his office, so he probably never came in here to see the mocking graffiti his underlings drew on the walls and doors of the privacy stalls. How many times had this door been painted over by maintenance staff to cover up previous drawings and writing?

"They just don’t understand him is all," sighed Ronald. Right now he didn’t feel like he did either, but he knew his feelings for Will hadn’t changed because if they had, he wouldn’t be so bloody offended by the tag.

"Bastards," he growled, reaching into his blazer pocket for the pen he kept on him for writing in his death book. He scribbled through the cartoony likeness of his lover and he wrote beneath the dick drawing. "Bet you don’t mind those paychecks he sends out every week, ya cowardly get."

It was childish and it wasn’t likely to deter the culprit from doing it again. Hell, the responsible party might even write back a rebuttal under Ronald’s statement. Still, it made him feel a little better. Nobody messed with his lover—even if they were dating in secret.

"He’s my lover," whispered Ronald, repeating his earlier statement in a different way. It came to him, then. He’d approached William as an underling, not as a lover. That was his mistake. William had never been known to compromise with his staff if he did not want to comply with a request. Ronald knew from experience that he had other ways he might convince the man, though. He began to grin as a plan took form in his mind.

* * *

 

William sighed as Ronald Knox once again entered his office, barely a half hour after he’d driven him out of it. “Mister Knox, you are trying my patience, and you are standing on a thin layer of ice over very deep waters.”

Ronald closed and locked the door behind him. Will followed the motion with his eyes and he gave the boy a stern look that said he would suffer no further insolence. “Your outburst from earlier was entirely uncalled for.”

He had no intention of revealing to the young man that it had actually hurt his feelings a bit, too.

"I know," Ronald said, lowering his gaze. "I shouldn’t have said that to you, and I’m sorry."

William watched him suspiciously as the attractive young agent crossed the room to his desk and circled around behind it. “What are you doing?”

Ronald climbed into his lap, straddling him in his chair. “Apologizing to my overworked, sexy boyfriend,” he purred in answer, and he kissed Will softly on the jaw. “I know ya care about more than your job, Will. I didn’t mean any o’ that.”

His lips glided like silk over Will’s skin, making their way to his ear. Ronald kissed the spot beneath it and he ran his hands over William’s chest. It made the supervisor a bit breathless, particularly when those deft fingers lightly pinched his nipples through the expensive suit. “Well…you should have thought before you spoke,” he husked, unable to control the way his body reacted to Ronald’s sensual behavior.

"Mm, I know." Ronald sucked on his earlobe, and his hands slid lower. "I just got mad is all. I spent some time thinking on it and I get why you don’t want me visiting Grell."

"I am…only trying to protect you," Will explained softly, breath catching a bit when one of Ronald’s hands cupped the bulge that was growing between his thighs. The boy was unfairly appealing and William suspected there was more to his methods than a mere apology. He nearly smirked when he got his confirmation of that.

"But Grell’s in a cell…probably trussed up in one of those restraint jacket thingies," reasoned the blond. He massaged Will’s crotch with one hand, while the other began to work his belt loose. "You’ve confiscated his scythe so what could he do to hurt me, even if he’s halfway to loony town?"

Will closed his eyes, quite aware that his lover was trying to manipulate him but enjoying his efforts, nonetheless. “It is not his scythe that worries me. It is his words.”

"I’ve heard lots of crazy things from Senpai," reminded Knox. He got Will’s belt undone and he tugged down his fly. "He might suggest I jump off a bridge for fun, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna do it. Don’t you have any faith in me, love? You said yourself I turned out okay despite him being my mentor."

Will barely checked a shiver of lust as Ronald’s hand burrowed into his pants and beneath his underwear to grip his shaft. “Yes, you’ve…demonstrated remarkable fortitude against his…reckless examples. Still, I fear it will effect you emotionally if I allow you to visit him right now. You saw his behavior when I brought him in, Ronald. He was rabid.”

"Yeah, but I’ll be okay. Please, Will? Just think about it?" Ronald began to stroke him slowly and he planted soft kisses on his throat."

Against his better judgment, William began to cave. His fingers began to flick open the buttons of Ronald’s blazer, then his shirt. He pushed the material open to bare his lover’s chest and he began to do some touching of his own. “You must think me an idiot if you believe I’m not aware of what you are doing,” he murmured, even as he fondled the younger reaper’s nipples to hardness. He began to thrust into Ronald’s hand breath quickening with pleasure.

"You mean sexing you up so you’ll let me see my senpai for a little while?" Ronald pulled back and smiled at him in that mischievous, engaging way of his that landed him so many admirers. "I’m not exactly trying t’ hide it."

William was briefly annoyed, but the amorous treatment he was getting made it difficult for him to retain it. “And you think sexual favors will convince me to go back on my decision? I should be offended by that.”

Ronald winked and his thumb brushed over the tip of Will’s flushed sex, making him jump a little. “But you aren’t, are ya? Maybe I can’t change your mind this way, but it’s sure worth a try.”

"I…cannot argue against that," breathed Will. A groan burst from his lips when Ronald squeezed him harder and pumped his hand faster. "You little…terror…"

"Just ten minutes, boss," coaxed Ronald. "That’s all I’m asking."

William was too horny to keep debating it. “Take off your pants and we shall see.”

* * *

 

Riding Will’s cock wasn’t exactly how Ron had planned to get clearance to see Grell, but he sure as hell didn’t have any complaints. He didn’t care if some people would call that sexual harassment. One party would have to be unwilling for that term to apply and there was no reluctance involved for either party. Walking a little gingerly, he approached the holding facility and he showed the guards his clearance badge.

"Ronald Knox, Dispatch division," he said as one of the guards looked the badge over. "Supervisor Spears gave me clearance to visit Grell Sutcliff."

The guard dropped the badge to leave it dangling by the strap around Ronald’s neck. He nodded and they both stepped aside for Ronald. Taking a deep breath, the young officer walked through the doors and into the facility.

* * *

 

Grell looked up in surprise as his cell door opened to admit Ronnie. His mouth dropped open as the blond walked in with a pained little smile on his lips, and he got up from his narrow bed. “Ronnie? However did you manage to get in here?”

Ronald shrugged. “With the Knox charm, how else? It took a little convincing but I got Spears senpai to give me a pass t’ come see you.” He looked Grell up and down. “At least they don’t have you in one of those straight jackets. This room is a lot nicer than I expected, too. No padded walls or anything.”

His gaze fell on the restraints on the bed and he shifted uncomfortably. “I guess they tie you down at night, huh?”

Grell sighed and he looked down at the bed. “For now, yes. I’ve been told that the padded cells are for patients that have violent episodes, and so are the straight jackets.” He sniffed and he wiped his eyes, glancing down at his hospital attire. “Just look at me, stuck in this drab, dull attire! On second thought, don’t look. I must appear hideous right now.”

Ronald shook his head. “No ya don’t. You look like my senpai, sans makeup. All the bruises and swelling’s healed up.”

"I begged them to allow someone to bring my makeup to me, but they wouldn’t budge. All I have is a brush to run through my hair. I’d be ever so interested to know how you managed to convince that cruel man to give you visitation access." Grell watched him with interest. Yes, Ronald was always a charmer, but he must have used both barrels to get Spears to budge…unless…

"Is there something you aren’t telling me, Ronald?"

The boy looked startled and briefly uncomfortable. “Like what?”

"What did you do to make William T. Spears show enough compassion to let you visit me, darling?" Grell tilted his head. "He’s not the sort of man to change his mind unless someone gives him an offer he cannot refuse."

Ronald shrugged a little jerkily. “Nothing too big. I just offered to take on as many reaps as possible and do some overtime to make up for you being out of the workforce. Told him we were gonna be even more backed up than usual and whether he likes it or not, you pulled in a good chunk of collections. Oh and uh…I brought ya this from your office.”

Ronald reached into the bag he’d brought in with him and he pulled out the ragdoll Grell had made with his own hands. It was in the likeness of Sebastian Michaelis. He handed it over with a grin and Grell took it solemnly. “I’d say you were too old for dolls, but the ladies never seem t’ be. They checked it before they’d let me bring it and they said it’d be fine for you to have it.”

Grell cradled the doll to his chest and his vision blurred with tears. “Ronald Knox…you are absolutely the most darling reaper I’ve ever known. I…I don’t deserve such kindness.”

"Sure ya do," argued the young man. "You were my mentor and believe it or not, you were always good to me. Maybe ya got a little lax there at the end but you were always there for me in some way. You’re kind of like a big sister t’ me, and I don’t want to see you go down."

Ronald sighed and pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, offering it to Grell. “Here, wipe your eyes, Senpai. I’d say your mascara will run but I guess you aren’t wearing any.”

Grell took the handkerchief and he wiped at his eyes with a shaken little laugh. “No…no mascara. No nothing. Like I said, those bounders won’t even allow me a lipstick.”

"Maybe I could pull some strings and get them to let me bring you some. I mean what are you gonna do, hold someone hostage with a tube of lipstick?"

Ronald chuckled and Grell joined him. “Ah, Ronnie…it’s so good to see you but truthfully, I didn’t want you to see me like this.” He sat down on the bed and he looked at the blond as Ronald joined him. “You aren’t disgusted with me?”

Ronald sighed. “I’m a little disappointed, but mostly I’m just confused. What the hell happened, Grell? What made ya turn down such a twisted path?”

Grell lowered his gaze to the doll in his lap, and he shrugged. “I saw her take down her first. Angelina, that is. I found it fascinating, I confess. I have seen many men kill other men, but to witness a woman so coldly murder another is a rare thing. I followed her and I revealed myself to her. She was certainly shocked at first, but then she became as fascinated with me as I was with her. Then she revealed to me why she had killed that chit, and I felt a sort of kinship with her. Things just…got out of hand.”

"Were you two lovers?" Ronald’s eyebrows went up, his face expressing surprise at the notion.

Grell shook his head and chuckled. “No, nothing like that. We were merely kindred spirits. My tastes haven’t changed, darling. I still prefer the company of men.”

"Figured as much." Ronald hesitated before speaking again. "So why did she kill them? I wasn’t there to see her cinematic records when you reaped her. I’m just trying t’ understand the motive."

"Each victim was a former patient of hers," explained Grell, watching Ronald’s face for his reactions. "They were harlots, and every one of them came to her for an abortion."

Ronald’s brows hedged. “Oh. Um, I don’t get it. If she had a problem with abortion why’d she go through with doing them? Couldn’t she have just turned ‘em away?”

Grell sighed. “It’s complicated, Ronnie. On the one hand, she didn’t believe these women deserved to have babies, and she could not abide the thought of innocent children being born to whores and being either abandoned or raised in squalor. In her mind she was doing those babies a kindness by putting and end to them before they were born. Madam Red lost a baby herself, you see, and she could never conceive again. She resented these women for their ability to have what she could not, and she hated them for taking that for granted and tossing away what she considered a gift. It drove her to the point of madness and finally, she decided to rid the world of these ungrateful wenches.”

"Huh. Wow, Senpai…that’s like killing a fly with a gun. If she wanted to teach them a lesson she could’ve sterilized ‘em or something when she had them on her operating table." Ron scratched the back of his head in his usual manner when he was trying to understand the logic behind something. "So what did all that have t’ do with you?"

Grell’s expression softened with emotion. “Because like my dear Madam, I cannot bear children either. Not that I have an immediate desire to have a baby, but it hurts to know I shall never have that option even if I want it. I sympathized with her pain, darling. I let it consume me, just as she let hers consume her. At first I was merely assisting as a way to vent my frustrations, but then…” He trailed off and lowered his gaze again, sighing. He absently stroked the yarn hair of his Sebby doll.

"But then…what?" prompted Ronald softly, taking the hand Grell was clutching the handkerchief in and squeezing it encouragingly. "It’s okay, Senpai. Let it out. That’s what I’m here for."

"It became addictive," Grell finally answered. He nodded and he sniffed, his vision blurring with tears again as he looked at Ronald. His lower lip trembled and he braced himself for the admonishment and judgment that was sure to come. "The blood…I could not stop. I even began to contemplate reaping other harlots that weren’t even on our ‘list’. I felt I…needed it."

An expression of dawning comprehension crossed Ronald’s youthful, attractive features. “So it was like a drug to you. That’s why your eyes got all funky and dilated when you looked at or spoke of blood, isn’t it?”

Grell nodded his bright head and looked away. “Yes. It was euphoric. I cannot explain it any other way, Ronald. You…you must think me a monster.”

"Mm-mm," denied Ronald with a shake of his head. "I could never think you were a monster, Senpai; not even now. Ya fell into a trap and you lost control. It’s a sickness, just like any other addiction, and you need help. I’m just glad you got stopped before it got even worse. You could come back from this, Grell. If you cooperate with Dispatch and let them help you get better, you could be back reaping again in a few months."

Grell sniffed again and he bit his lower lip until it bled. Ronald’s sympathy and understanding was like a salve to a festering wound. “I’m such a wretched thing. How can you be so forgiving? How can you even bear to look at me?”

Ronald pried the handkerchief out of Grell’s hand and he dabbed at the redhead’s bleeding mouth with it. “”Cause I kinda love my big sis, that’s how. Here, don’t do this to yourself. I just want my senpai back, so maybe I’m a little selfish.”

He sighed and his eyes started to glisten with unshed tears. “Guess I ought to make a confession of my own, now. Grell…I’m the one that dropped the ball. Will started investigating because of me. I went to him and told him I was worried ‘cause you weren’t acting right. I never thought it was anything like this, though. I thought maybe you were on something. It’s…it’s my fault you got caught.”

Grell stared at him, his emotions warring inside. On the one hand he thought he should resent Ronald for tattling on him but on the other, he knew he would have sunk even further if it had been allowed to go on. He didn’t want to be this monster. He’d never been the most congenial or compassionate reaper, but he used to be good at his job—one of the best. He started to cry again, the tears rolling down his fair cheeks as it all built up again.

"Oh Ronnie…come here." Grell put his doll aside and he embraced his former apprentice, hugging him tightly. He stroked his soft, blond-black hair and he kissed him on the cheek. "I’m not angry with you. In fact, I’m touched that you cared enough to approach Will about it. Surely if you noticed the change in my behavior, others did as well and you were the only one to be concerned…concerned for me, and not how my behavior might effect my work. You are such a dear, sweet boy and I wish you truly were my little brother."

Ronald rocked Grell gently, his throat tightening with emotion. A tear trickled down his cheek as well, and he sniffled. “I’m just glad you’re safe now. I’ve got faith in you, Grell. I know you’ll beat this and come back to us.”

Grell nodded in agreement, holding the younger reaper tighter. “I shall. For you, if nothing else. That is, if William will allow me to come back. I doubt he would be very receptive to the idea.”

"You just leave that to me," said Ronald, easing out of the embrace. He gave the older reaper a wink. "Like I said; I can be persuasive. I’ll plant the seed and keep at it ‘till he eventually caves. You’re going to be a Dispatch agent again, come Hell or high water."

Grell gave a broken little chuckle and he ruffled the blond’s hair fondly. “Stubborn dormouse.”

* * *

 

An hour later, Ronald walked into Will’s office and the brunet glanced up at him briefly from his documents. “Well? What did that wretch have to say for himself?” He resumed filling out the form he was working on, not truly interested but too polite not to ask.

Ronald stuck his hands in his pockets and he leaned against the big window overlooking the reaper city. “He’s sorry for what he did, and he wants to get better. I believe him, Will. You’ve got to at least give him the chance to redeem himself and come back.”

William’s jaw tightened with irritation, but as he had already demonstrated, he had a certain weakness for Ronald’s pleas. He looked up and he could see by the redness of the boy’s eyes and nose that he’d been crying. “We shall see.”

It was the best he could offer him, and much more than he would have offered just about anyone else.

Ronald took his hands out of his pockets and he crossed the room, circling around Will’s desk. William looked up at him almost warily, expecting an argument. Instead, Ron bent over, cupped his face in both hands and gave him a lingering kiss.

"Thank you," said the boy solemnly, his breath ghosting over Will’s lips.

"Don’t thank me just yet," cautioned William. "I have not said ‘yes’."

"But ya didn’t say ‘no’, either." Ronald released his face and straightened up with a charming wink. "For me, that’s a sweet gesture from my man. I’m not giving up. Oh and by the way…"

Ronald blushed a bit as Will stared at him expectantly. “Yes?” pressed William. “‘By the way’, what?”

"By the way, I love you." Ronald grinned shyly at him. "Guess I’d better get back to work. I’ll see ya later, boss."

William was a bit stunned by the announcement. Aside from Grell, nobody had ever told him that they loved him and to hear it from the lips of the young man he was so mad about shook him to his core. “You love me, do you?” A ghost of a smile played on his lips. “That verdict may be withdrawn soon, as I must assign you overtime to make up for the loss of productivity from your visit with Sutcliff.”

Ronald shrugged and turned around, walking backwards toward the door. “Doesn’t change anything, and it’s a price I’m willing t’ pay. I’ll do as much overtime as ya want me to if it’ll eventually help get my senpai back into the ranks.”

"Hmph. Don’t allow your hopes to get too high." William paused as Ronald turned to open the door. "And Agent Knox? Take some time to compose yourself before resuming the work day. I don’t want you distracted while out in the field."

"Yeah, okay. Thanks, sexy." Ronald tossed a grin over his shoulder at him before opening the door and leaving.

William sighed. If Ronald was upset that he hadn’t reciprocated his declaration of love, he certainly didn’t show it. Perhaps his actions spoke loudly enough to make up for his lack of verbal affection. Deep down, he knew he had come to love Ronald too, and that realization was somewhat startling to him.

* * *

 

A few months later, Grell was released from the mental facility with the recommendation of his doctor to allow him to return to work. William silently agonized over it, weighing the risks versus rewards. His department was even more short-staffed than usual and Grell’s absence had an impact on collections, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Allowing him to come back to work carried its own risks, though. Yes, the doctor might have given him a clean bill of mental health but should Sutcliff ever snap again it would reflect badly on the entire division.

With Ronald’s coaxing as well as Alan’s, William finally gave in and filled out the necessary paperwork to reinstate Grell as an officer of London Dispatch. There were conditions, though. Seeing as it was William’s duty to keep his department running smoothly and monitor the performance of all staff, he outlined these conditions thoroughly. Some of his personal feelings snuck into it as well and he couldn’t resist punishing the volatile redhead just a little.

* * *

 

"Scissors?!" Grell stared at the two small pairs of red-handled scissors he’d been issued in place of his usual death scythe. He snipped at the air with them as he looked at William with disbelief painted all over his features. "Will! How in Hades am I supposed to work with these tiny things? This…this is simply cruel, even for you!"

"You may take it or leave it," said William coolly. "You have brought this upon yourself, Grell Sutcliff. Either you accept these tools as a part of your probation agreement, or you resign now. In time perhaps you may earn the right to wield that monstrosity of a scythe you had modified without authorization, but for now, these will be your reaping tools. It is entirely your decision. Be thankful that I am even letting you back in."

Grell huffed with annoyance and banished the puny scythes. “Oh, you are a cold, cruel man, William T. Spears. I expected certain restrictions and a pay cut, but now you simply mock me!”

"And I take great pleasure in it," replied William without even attempting to deny the accusation. "You’ve earned it with your disgraceful behavior. Again I say the choice is yours. Whether you take the offer and resume your duties or give up your glasses and retire is none of my concern. You have been issued the terms. All that awaits now is your signature on this dotted line."

He slid the document toward Grell, turning it around to face the crimson reaper right-side-up on the desk. Will threaded his fingers together on the surface of the desk as he awaited Grell’s decision. “What is it going to be, Sutcliff? Shall we again refer to you as an officer of Dispatch, or shall we make arrangements for your permanent dismissal?”

Grell sighed in a pained manner and he snatched up the pen lying on the paper. “Fine. Better to be a reaper with ridiculous death scythes than to no longer be one at all.”

Noticing the twitch of Will’s eye, Grell smiled slyly at him. “You were so hoping that I wouldn’t accept, were you not, my darling?”

"I am not your darling," stated William flatly. "Sign your name and leave my office, Sutcliff."

Grell did as he was told, clearly disappointed that his barb missed its mark.

* * *

 

"So now he has me using a pair of bloody scissors," complained Grell later on as he sat down with Ronald, Eric and Alan at their table in the cafeteria. "Scissors! I am a Death God, not a barber!"

Eric chuckled around the bite of food he’d just taken and he shook his head, reaching for his soda to wash it down. “Ya did it tae yerself, Red. Yer jus’ lucky tha boss let yeh back in at all, so count yer blessings. Truth be told I was one o’ tha people on Will’s side. I think ya need more time, but Will caved under tha pressure.”

"We’re too short-staffed as it is," Alan pointed out, "and if the doctors say Grell is fit to reap again, there was no reason to hold him back for longer."

"There’s where you an’ I disagree," muttered Eric. He smirked and he squeezed his partner’s hand under the table. "But I won’t press th’ argument. Tha’ might result in me sleeping alone t’night."

"It would," agreed Alan with a little smirk. He looked at Grell with softly sympathetic eyes. "How are you feeling though, Miss Sutcliff? Do you think you’re ready to go back on the field?"

Grell shrugged and began cutting into his Salisbury steak, glancing at Ronald with a confident smirk. “With my darling ‘little brother’ at my side as my partner, I’m ready for anything. You and Ronald were the only two reapers in this place that had any faith in me, Alan. I owe you a kiss on the cheek for that.”

"Depends on wha’ cheek yer kissing," joked Eric. "Better be on tha face."

"Oh please, you big, tawdry lug. Alan is adorable, but he’s not my type. No offense, Alan."

"None taken." Alan shrugged and he forked up some mashed potatoes. "You aren’t mine either."

"So what is your type?" Ronald asked to Grell. "I mean besides tall dark handsome bosses that don’t share your attraction?"

He visibly winced as he said it and Eric carefully focused on his sausage, well-aware that Grell didn’t know about Ronald’s relationship with William.

"Oh, does someone besides my gorgeous self have his eye on Willikins?" teased Grell, ignorant of just how close to the mark he was. "You just stick with the girls in Personnel and Human Resources, you little heartbreaker. Will is off limits! As for who my type is, it isn’t really a secret. I’ve always preferred the strong, stoic types. Of course they must be handsome, but I haven’t any interest in a man that cannot at least equal me in battle. You know that, Ronald."

The blond smirked. “Yeah, and the boss would wipe the floor with you.”

"Oh, as long as I’m stuck with these horrid excuses for death scythes, I’m sure he would." Grell produced the scissors and he snipped the air with a mournful sigh, before banishing them again. "I’ve become a much stronger fighter since our last lover’s spat, though. As much as I enjoyed every blow he delivered, I think William would find himself facing a much more difficult challenge with me now than he did back then."

"You have a strange fixation with pain," observed Alan. "I don’t understand why you enjoy it so much, Grell."

The crimson reaper sighed and plopped his chin in his hand. “It isn’t the pain. It’s the win. If a strong, handsome man can hold his own against me and demonstrate his prowess, it simply gives me the most delightful chills!” He squirmed in his seat, his face taking on a dreamy expression. “The fastest way to a lady’s heart is through brutal force!”

"Er…" Eric exchanged dubious looks with Alan and Ronald. "Tha’s no’ wha’ any o’ tha ladies I know ever told me. I think ye’re alone in tha’ corner, Grell."

"Oh, they just don’t like to admit it," argued Grell saucily.

"Whether they do or not, you shouldn’t just assume," insisted Alan. "Each person is different."

"Well, they are free to have their boring, puritanical romances if they wish," sniffed Grell disdainfully. "I long for a man who can hold me down, pin me to the bed and ravish…why Alan, are you blushing?"

Alan bit his lip and glanced sidelong at his suddenly grinning partner. “Not at all,” he denied…but then Eric waggled his eyebrows at him and Alan averted his eyes and busied himself with eating.

"Oh Eric, you naughty Scotsman," cooed Grell slyly. "How easily you fluster him. What I would not give to be a fly on the wall in your bedroom."

"We don’t require an audience," muttered Alan before stuffing a bite of macaroni and cheese in his mouth.

Eric laughed heartily and he rubbed his blushing partner’s back. “Dun’ need one, lover. Yer blush gave it all away.”

"Ha-ha," grumbled Alan. "This is your fault, Eric."

"I dinnae say a thing," protested the Scotsman, spreading his hands. "Grell figured it out by tha look on yer cute little face."

Ronald, for once, said nothing. He was too busy trying not to blush, himself. He had to admit that Grell had a point about the appeal of an assertive sexual partner, and his stupid mind immediately went to his last encounter with William…followed by their first encounter and the way the man had bent him over his desk and fucked his brains out. Not everyone was into that sort of dominance, of course. Evidently he, Grell and Alan did not fit into that category.

* * *

 

-To be continued


	9. Chapter 9

 

A few months later, Grell earned the right to get his chainsaw scythe out of impound and wield it again—only because William finally agreed that the scissors he'd assigned him in replacement were hindering his performance on the field. Oddly enough, the crimson reaper decided to keep the scissors as well, despite how often he'd complained about them. When asked by Ronald why, he shrugged and said he'd grown rather fond of them and they were at least useful for cutting hair and thread. Grell and Ronald began partnering up together again—mainly because William did not trust the redhead to reap on his own without getting into trouble again. 

His instincts turned out to be right, but having Ronald along with him didn't do much good. One day in the spring he sent the two of them on a cruise ship that was destined to sink, and then word got back to him that they'd run into complications and hadn't reported anything since the Campania hit an iceberg and went down. 

"Bother," grumbled William as he tried for the fourth time to reach Knox on his phone. He looked at the clock and he debated whether to keep trying to contact them or to just go to the coordinates where the ship went down and search for them. Reapers couldn't drown as they didn't require oxygen to live, and they could not freeze to death no matter how cold the water was. They could, however, be rendered comatose by such conditions and as a result, eventually starve to death. He would be tempted to leave Sutcliff to that fate, but certainly not Ronald. The only Dispatch agents not out on assignments right now were junior officers, and he wasn't about to entrust rookies with the task of a search and rescue. 

William got on the phone with the personnel department. "This is Spears. Where did that ship go down?" 

* * *

 

Ronald groaned when he came too, coughing up sea water. His face was swollen and he yelped when someone's shoe nudged him none too gently. 

"Ronald Knox! _Wake up_ this instant!" 

"Oohh...owww," he moaned forcing blood-gummed eyes open. He was lying in the bottom of a boat with Grell, and standing over them looking immaculate as always was William T. Spears. "Wh-what happened?" he asked. 

Grell stirred with a moan as well. When he saw William he gasped and called his name as if the man were a knight in shining armor. " _Wiiillll_! You've come for me!" 

William sidestepped as Grell lunged at him, and rather than embrace the brunet as evidently intended, Grell went overboard again. With a sigh, William fished him out again with his scythe. "Start collecting, Sutcliff. I have come to clean up after your mistakes, yet again. Honestly, is it not possible for you to ever do your job without botching it?" 

"Wait a minute," protested Ronald as he rubbed his wet head, "We're all beat up here, boss!" Geez, he knew Will could be cold but asking them to dive into salt water with open wounds? That was just cruel! 

"I shall allow you to rest for a moment," said William, "and once your injuries close up, the both of you are to finish the job you were sent on. A reaper should be able to perform his or her duties regardless of the situation." 

Ronald sighed. "Yeah, well you aren't the one that got his arse handed to him by the Undertaker, neither." 

William paused and he stared at the younger man. "The Undertaker, you say?" 

"Right." Ronald nodded and he winced in pain at the motion. "The old guy that runs the south side mortuary. Only, turns out he's not just a creepy old man. In fact he doesn't look old at all when you catch a glimpse of his face under all that hair. Scarred up, but not aged." 

"Willy, he's a reaper," Grell blurted. "One of the fallen, I suppose. He's been hiding it from everyone for all this time, but we saw his face and eyes and there was no mistaking it!" Grell's eyes misted over. "And oh my, what a face! Like a scarred angel! If he hadn't thrown me through a glass dome I might have tried wooing him!" 

William shook his head, his brows drawing down. "I do not understand any of this. You will both resume your collections and then you will file a report immediately afterwards. Be precise; the board will want to know _exactly_ what occurred here today. Get going." 

Both of the other reapers groaned, but they didn't argue with him. 

* * *

 

"So _that's_ who the violator is," William murmured the next day after going through Grell and Ronald's reports. He had heard of the very first of their kind defecting from the ranks some time ago, when he and Grell were still in training. He often gazed upon his statue monument in the Great Library, but he had never made the connection between the legend and the eccentric mortician in mortal London. 

"And now he is in further violation of our laws, experimenting on the dead and turning them into abominations. How does one fall so far?" 

The reaper he'd once been was naught but a shade from the past now, replaced by a madman who toyed with life and death like a curious child. He would have to answer for his crimes, and William had a terrible feeling that he was going to end up being assigned the task of bringing him in. 

A knock on his office door distracted him from his contemplations. "Come in." 

Ronald stepped in, looking a little sheepish as he approached Will's desk with some additional reports for the work day. He looked much better, with only faint discoloration on his left cheek to mark his experience on the ship. "Here's my regular collection reports, sir. Uh...sorry we messed up so much." 

William set aside the documents he'd been going over and he took the fresh ones. "Considering the Undertaker managed to take on not only the two of you, but the Phantomhive demon as well, I believe we can safely presume the results would not have differed no matter who was on the assignment. Nobody could have predicted what happened on that cruise ship." 

Ronald sighed with obvious relief and he sat down in the visitor chair on the other side of Will's desk. "That's not how you felt yesterday." 

"I was perturbed," excused William, "more so with Sutcliff than with you. Now that I have seen both of your reports, I must give you some grace. The Undertaker is ancient, and he's had countless years to master his techniques. You are still quite green." He didn't mention that he'd also been worried for him, nor did he bring up the sense of relief he'd felt when Ronald awoke in the boat. He'd been harsh with him as well as Sutcliff, but in Ronald's case it was more due to anxiety than anger. 

Ronald bit his lip. "So what's the verdict? Are we getting a pay cut?" 

William shook his head. "There are mitigating circumstances, this time. I have requested leniency for you, and I am sure the board will agree once they review your reports. Doubtless we shall be expected to track the Undertaker down and arrest him for all of these violations. You can tell your former mentor congratulations; someone has finally rivaled his disgrace." 

"Maybe now he'll stop whining about how unfair you've been." Ronald smirked. "I get to hear all about it every time we go out collecting or sit down to lunch. Eric and Alan have started taking their lunch in their office so they don't have to listen to it." 

"One could hardly blame them," said William dryly. "Take the rest of the day off, Ronald. Get some rest and come in refreshed tomorrow. I've a feeling we are soon going to be working more overtime hours than ever, once the board reaches a decision considering the fugitive." 

Ronald groaned and William sympathized with him, though his reason for distress wasn't likely the same as Will's. Undertaker was a legend amongst their kind, having been presumed dead years ago. William still could not believe he'd never considered that the Phantomhive informant might be the very same Undertaker that defected from Dispatch. He felt foolish for overlooking it, in fact. It was a well known fact that the Undertaker had worked with the Earl's family for years and he never seemed to fall victim to the inevitable decay of age that humans suffered with time. 

"What are ya thinking, Will?" Ronald asked the question softly, his young face betraying concern. 

"I'm thinking that I spend too much time in this office," murmured William in answer. "It's making me less observant. There were signs that the funeral director was not as he appeared, but I never had him investigated because the possibility that he was a reaper—let alone a legendary one—did not ever occur to me. This reflects badly on our whole department." 

"Hey, you said it yourself—everyone thought he was dead. How were _you_ supposed t' know the mortician was the same guy?" 

"Because he is unusual enough to warrant suspicion," answered William coolly. His pallor, his behavior...even the way he moves should have alerted me to the truth; but I have never interacted directly with him nor visited his shop. I have only seen him from the distance. Sutcliff, on the other hand, has had run-ins with him before and _he_ should have suspected something." 

"Well, Senpai wasn't exactly in his right mind when that happened," excused Ronald. "He was all hyped up on blood lust so it's no wonder he didn't notice much." 

"I suppose," sighed William. "It matters not; I am going to have to send agents to investigate his shop for clues as to where he might have gone. I very much doubt he will have returned there after what happened on the ship." 

"The Phantomhive kid got that chain of mourning lockets Undertaker was wearing as a belt," informed Ronald. "I didn't put it in my report 'cause I didn't think it was relevant, but maybe we ought to add that. Undertaker seemed kind of upset when he dropped it, so that might be the cheese we need for the mousetrap." 

William leaned back in his chair and he threaded his fingers together thoughtfully. "Yes, it just might. Perhaps we should arrange a visit to the Phantomhive manor. Not Grell, of course. He would merely irritate the boy and make him uncooperative. I'll send Slingby and Humphries to talk with the young earl." 

William himself had no desire to pay a visit and interact with that wretched demon again. He knew the boy had survived the ordeal on the ship. His name had not appeared on any death lists. 

"Will you come by tonight?" Ronald asked as he got up to leave. "I mean if we aren't going to get any time off again for a while, we might want to take advantage while we can." 

William found the idea more than a little tempting. He could take a cab to the pub at the corner of Ronald's block and discreetly take the fire escape so as not to be seen entering his apartment. "I may have to work a bit late tonight," he informed the younger reaper. "No doubt the board will wish to discuss this matter with me and give instruction on how they wish for this to be dealt with. I shall call your home phone when I make it home, and provided it isn't too later, I will come over." 

"No such thing as 'too late' when it comes to getting my Will loving," Ronald insisted with a wink. "See ya tonight, handsome." 

* * *

 

A few days later, Eric and Alan went to the Phantomhive manor to inquire about the locket chain and try to negotiate the use of it so that they could lure Undertaker. The plan was to remind Ciel of how dangerous the rogue Shinigami was and point out the fact that he would likely come for his "treasure" one day or another. With the added protection of Dispatch agents, the boy was less likely to come to harm. 

That was the plan, anyway. Unfortunately Tanaka answered the door and he informed the two reapers that Ciel and his butler were away at Weston College. Evidently Ciel was now enrolled there. 

"Boy's school?" Eric sighed and scratched his head, glancing at his partner. The old butler waited politely while he tried to think of what to do next. Ciel would be away for months. 

"Sirs, may I inquire as to what this is about?" Tanaka said. 

Unsure of how much the house servants knew about reapers or if they even knew Sebastian was a demon, Alan chose his words with care. "We were hoping to speak with the Earl about a set of items that may have come into his possession. One of our associates lost it on the Campania and rumor has it Earl Phantomhive might have picked it up. The Yard would be very grateful if we could get it back." 

"I see." The old man's eyes narrowed slightly. "The 'Yard', indeed. What sort of item is it?" 

Knowing Tanaka knew more than he was letting on, Eric spoke up, using the British accent he'd learned to put on over the years. "It's a collection of mourning lockets on a chain. Hard to miss." 

"Rather like the one that the Undertaker wears around his waist?" Tanaka guessed. "I was unaware the man had ties to Scotland Yard." 

Eric sighed inwardly. "All right, we aren't really from the Yard..." 

"Eric," said Alan warningly. 

The Scotsman shrugged. "He's already figured it out, Alan. Might as well tell him the truth." 

Alan's eyes widened, and he looked at the butler. He really didn't have much of a poker face. Eric didn't give him a chance to protest more. "The truth is we're part of a secret organization and the Undertaker is wanted for illegal experimentation. I don't know how much your lord told you about the events on the Campania, but the Undertaker caused quite a mess." 

"I hears some disturbing things," admitted Tanaka with an elegant nod. "And you say your organization wishes to arrest him? Have you any identification to confirm this?" 

Alan exchanged a look with Eric, his expression telling the Scotsman he was going to be in for a lecture when they got home. They had Dispatch ID's of course, but it was nothing any human would recognize. "Yes sir, we do," he sighed, and he reached for his wallet to show the butler. Eric did the same and Tanaka adjusted his monocle, peering down at them.

 "My word...what language is this written in?" He stared at the odd Shinigami letters and numbers in astonishment. 

"It's an encrypted language," explained Eric quickly, guessing the man was probably bilingual and unwilling to risk getting caught in another lie by throwing some random language out there. "Only members of our agency are taught to read it, for our safety and for the safety of others." 

"I...see." He still seemed a bit dubious, but the blatant suspicion was gone from his lined face. "Well, I wish that I could assist you, but Lord Phantomhive took the item you seek with him when he left. I am afraid you will have to either visit the school to speak with him about it or come back another time." 

Eric sighed. "So much for that." 

"Thank you for your cooperation," said Alan more graciously. "My partner and I shall take our leave now. Come on, Eric." 

They felt Tanaka's eyes on them as they walked away. "I've go' tae wonder how much tha' old man really knows," whispered Eric, dropping his face accent, "an' whether he was telling tha truth about tha lockets or no'." 

"Well, we can't very well just break into the manor and conduct an unauthorized search," sighed Alan. "All that we can do is try to reach Lord Phantomhive or use another method to track Undertaker down." 

* * *

 

They had the Undertaker's shop in London watched at all times, but the man never returned to it—not even to collect things he might have left behind. They found it abandoned, in fact. He'd clearly left with the intention of being away for quite some time, seeing as all the furniture was covered. William was highly frustrated when their efforts proved fruitless. They heard rumors here and there from other reapers, but that's all they really were—rumors. Word had gotten out that the crazy old Undertaker was actually the same reaper whose likeness stood in the Great Library, and now it seemed everyone claimed they saw him somewhere or another. 

It was making the investigation even tougher. William was even more overworked than usual and Ronald did all he could to ease his tension. Of course, Knox's methods of doing so weren't exactly appropriate for the office. At first, William was against it and he turned him away a few times, but then one day he eventually gave in. Since he barely got out of the office anymore, most of his "dates" with Ronald took place in there. The blond started bringing him takeout and eating dinner with him, he gave him massages and of course, he initiated sex whenever possible. 

One such encounter nearly resulted in them getting caught, much to Will's horror—by Sutcliff, of all reapers. There he was at his desk getting a hand job when Grell came knocking on his door insistently with some complaint or another. Will panicked and shoved Ron under his desk before tucking himself in and going to the door to unlock it. His face was flushed as he opened the door. 

"What _now_ , Sutcliff? I'm quite busy." 

Grell blinked at him. "And flushed," he observed, "and winded, too. Why, if I didn't know any better I would confuse those symptoms for passion, darling...but you are far too proper to conduct an illicit affair in the middle of the day in your own office." 

"I was exercising," excused William, flushing deeper. "I must get a workout _some_ time, you know. Since I rarely get out of the office these days, it's my only recourse." 

"I could give you a workout," offered Grell with his Cheshire grin. He ran a gloved finger over Will's tie. "Something much more satisfying than calisthenics, my cold prince." 

"Thank you, but I shall pass." William stepped back and straightened his tie. "What do you want, Grell Sutcliff?" 

The crimson reaper sighed. "I wanted to tell you that the Phantomhive brat has returned home. Eric and Alan went to speak with him earlier, but he denied having the Undertaker's rusty old lockets. He claims to have lost them in the ocean, but I don't quite believe him." 

"I see." Will did his best not to glance back over his shoulder at his desk, where his secret lover was hidden. "Have his manor watched, then. Even if he no longer possesses the lockets, the fugitive will probably still come looking for them, sooner or later." 

"My thoughts exactly," agreed Grell with a nod. "You and I think so very much alike, Will!"

 "No we do not," denied Will coldly. "If that is all, I bid you good day." 

"Oh, but it _isn't_ all," insisted Grell, blocking the door with his boot when Will tried to close it. "Guess who made an appearance at the Weston college? It seems a student there had an accident some time ago—and by 'accident' I mean his classmates put an end to him and had to call on some outside help to cover up their crime. I'm sure I don't need to remind you who has the power to bring the dead back to life, hmm?"

 "Undertaker," whispered Spears. His jaw tightened. "Has there been any indication of where he might have gone from there?" 

Grell shrugged. "The Viscount Druitt was questioned on that matter, but if he knows anything he's hiding it admirably. My guess is he's still in the country. If his precious lockets mean so much to him, he won't go far." 

"One would assume." Will sighed and pushed his glasses up further on his face. "Have every available agent ask around mortal London, and have the staff at that school questioned thoroughly." 

"I'm already on that, darling," assured Grell. "That old bounder is going to pay for what he did to my face!" 

William rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes. Good work, Sutcliff. Now if you'll excuse me, I've work I must get back to." 

"I thought you were exercising," Grell pointed out with a frown. 

"I had just finished when you interrupted me. Now get back to work." 

Grell sighed in disappointment and he obligingly turned to go. "Rejected again...how unfair! If you should happen to see Ronnie, tell him I shall meet him in the cafeteria for lunch in an hour. We still have collections to gather today and I cannot find that flighty boy anywhere!" 

"I shall relay the message, should I see him," promised William. He closed and locked the door again and he breathed a sigh of relief, adrenaline pumping through him. 

Ronald crawled out from under the desk with an exhilarated grin on his lips. "Whew, that was close! Nothing like nearly getting caught to give a thrill, huh?" 

"You may find it 'thrilling' to imagine being discovered in a compromising position by your own mentor, but I do not." William turned around to face him as the blond approached. "We must be more careful, Ronald." 

Ron shrugged and put his hands on Will's shoulders, rising up on his tiptoes to kiss him softly on the lips. "Are you sure we'd get in trouble if we got found out? I've never seen any rules against office dating." 

"That is because it should even need to be on paper," insisted William. "If I did not outrank you it might be different, but considering I am your supervisor, I doubt the board would look kindly on it. We've been over this before, Ronald. Must we have this discussion every week?" 

Ronald sighed, sliding his hands down Will's tense arms. "Sorry. I just hate sneaking around all the time. It was fun at first, feeling like I was getting away with forbidden fruit, but whenever I see all these couples holding hands in public and kissing...well, it doesn't seem fair that we can't. Besides, it's getting exhausting flirting with the girls downstairs all the time, taking 'em on dates and making up excuses why I won't come in with 'em when I take them home. How long am I going t' have to keep up this charade?" 

"For a while longer, at least." Will's cool expression softened and he stroked Ronald's feathered locks. "Until I can be sure I won't lose my job over it, or until I get transferred to another department." 

Ronald blinked. "You'd...do that? Transfer somewhere else?" 

William hesitated. "The thought has crossed my mind more than once. If I were to transfer to another department—say Liverpool or Sheffield, perhaps—then we could date openly without compromising job security. I would require some believable excuse for requesting such a transfer, however. Therein lies the problem." 

Ronald bit his lip. "I...dunno if I'd want that. I mean sure we could date like normal folk if ya did that, but it's a whole other town and I wouldn't see you every day. As much as you work, I'd be lucky to get one day a week with you." 

"I realize it isn't the most ideal arrangement," sighed Will. "I'm not exactly thrilled about the prospect myself, but it may be our only option if we are to ever date openly. Thus far it seems our only options are to continue keeping it a secret, put my job at risk or consider transferring. I would not ask you to transfer and leave behind all of your friends, but I truly have none—therefore I am the more logical choice if it comes to that." 

"You've got me," Ronald pointed out, "and I'm sure you'd have more friends if you ever tried going out and doing things with any of our coworkers." 

William smirked ruefully, seeing the pity in his lover's gaze. "That's a lovely sentiment, but managers cannot afford to get too friendly with those they are supervising. It can cause them to lose respect for me and my position." 

"Sorry, but I don't see it like that," argued Ronald. "I mean you've gotten _real_ friendly with me and I still respect the hell out of ya. Of course, it's hard not to respect a guy that's so good in the sack, but you know what I mean." 

This time Will's smirk was a bit more genuine, and he traced Ronald's lips with a gloved finger. "You are the exception. Perhaps Alan would be more tractable and retain his respect for me, but Sutcliff would see it as an invitation for more and Slingby is the sort of man that only takes orders from people more intimidating than himself. If I begin trying to befriend him, he'll likely see it as a weakness." 

"Or he'll think his boss is more than just an automation that lives for paperwork," muttered Ronald. 

"You're getting angry," observed Will with a sigh. "This is why I dislike talking about this with you." 

"Couples argue sometimes," insisted Ronald. "Well, normal couples do. Can't we even have _that_?" 

Will compressed his lips. "So you require quarrelling in order to feel more like a real couple?" 

"No, but...damn it, I'm just frustrated. We don't go out in public, we have to sneak into each other's apartments like thieves when one of us comes over to visit the other, I've got to keep putting on this show and pimping myself out to girls I'm not even really interested in and we can't even go out for a simple lunch without looking over our shoulders and putting on an act. I'm not angry, really...I'm just..." 

William suddenly kissed him, stealing Ronald's breath and cutting off his tirade. The boy moaned into the kiss, arms stealing around the taller man's waist. Will plundered his mouth for a while until Ronald's knees started giving out, and then he broke the kiss and stared into his eyes. 

"...frustrated," finished Ronald breathlessly. 

"I know," answered William. "It frustrates me too, but if you're going to continue getting upset then perhaps we should discuss it another time. I shall start looking into my options for a transfer. Better that we work apart and date openly than to continue doing something that makes you so unhappy." 

Ronald sighed and pulled away. "I don't really want that, either. I guess I don't know _what_ I want. One way allows me to see you every day and the other gets me the sort of relationship I want, but takes you away from me. It all sucks." 

"We can think it over for a while and discuss it," suggested William. "Nothing must be done right away. Now, you'd best prepare to meet Grell for lunch, before he gets suspicious and comes looking for you again." 

Ron nodded reluctantly and he pinched Will's bottom. "There'd better be sex to be had later. It's been days and I'm getting antsy." 

William smiled ever so slightly. "I will book a suite for us tonight. We shall order room service, enjoy an intimate, candle-lit dinner and then lovemaking throughout the night. Would that suffice?" 

"Hell yeah." Ronald perked up and he finally managed a sincere grin. "That'll _more_ than suffice. Don't back out on me now, like ya did last week." 

"That really was no fault of mine," objected William. "I was on call." 

"So make sure someone else goes on call tonight and turn your bloody phone off if you've got to." Ronald insisted. "You've got a foxy Knoxy to look forward to." 

William watched him go and he sighed softly, his gaze roving over the blond's backside. "Indeed I do," he agreed in a soft whisper—and he was more than looking forward to spending the night with him. 

* * *

 

"Will...oh gods... _William_!" Ronald's impassioned vocalizations filled the room of the suite he and William booked, several hours later. He panted and clung to his lover as Will's pelvic thrusts drove him closer and closer to the brink. William was being more gentle this time than he'd been with him the first. They'd gotten so caught up in the moment that they didn't even make it across the room to the bed the first time, and Ronald ended up pinned against the wall, being taken from behind. They'd lain down together after completion, kissing and caressing until they recovered enough for a second round. 

Will's phone began to vibrate. Ronald groaned when he heard it buzzing and he grabbed the older reaper's ass to keep him from pulling out. "You said you'd turn it off!" 

"No, you demanded I turn it off and I chose to compromise and mute it," corrected William unsteadily. "I cannot simply turn it off and make myself completely unavailable, Ronald. My position in this organization doesn't allow it." 

He gave another slow pump of his hips, making Ronald moan with pleasure. "I don't care about your position at work right now," gasped Ronald. "The only position I care about is the one you're in right now with me! Don't answer it, gorgeous...please?" 

William groaned as well when Ronald's ass clamped down hard on his length, nearly pushing him over the edge. He kept going even as he reached for the phone to see who it was. When he saw that it was a phone call from the mortal realm, he frowned and put it to his ear despite Ronald's pleas. "William T. Spears speaking." He somehow managed to keep his voice steady so that the other party would never guess what he was doing. 

"Good evening, Mister Spears," greeted a familiar, cultured voice that William frankly disdained. "I am calling on behalf of my master. I am sure you don't wish to prolong this conversation any more than I do, so I will make this brief." 

William sighed and stopped moving. He put his hand over his companion's mouth warningly to stall his protests. "Go on, Mister Michaelis. I am listening." 

"The Undertaker is currently at the Phantomhive manor," obliged the demon butler. "I believe Dispatch has been after him for a time now, and my master has instructed me to inform you. I would advise you to come quickly if you don't wish to miss out on this opportunity. Good evening to you." 

Sebastian hung up the phone and Will pulled the device away from his ear, staring at it. With a faintly regretful look at his squirming lover, he withdrew from Ronald's body and he got up to get dressed. 

"What the hell?" Blurted Ronald in umbrage. "Will! Why'd you stop?" 

"Because we have the chance to apprehend our dangerous fugitive," explained William. "Our pleasure can wait, Ronald. Get dressed and contact Grell, whilst I contact Humphries and Slingby. Hopefully the five of us and Michaelis will be a match for the Undertaker—though I loathe to ally myself with a demon for any reason." 

Ronald grumbled, but he didn't argue with him. A short time later they met up with their allies outside headquarters and they all teleported to the Phantomhive manor together. 

* * *

 

William was the first one to make it through the portal, and evidently the Undertaker was expecting him because the ancient was already wielding his death scythe. A glance at Ciel Phantomhive's expression gave away what must have happened. The boy was having second thoughts about turning in the man who had served his family as an informant for so many years. There was nothing for it though; they were already here and they had a job to do. 

"Undertaker," announced Spears, "You are charged with violating Rule 2-B of Code 5, sub-section 3, regarding the interference of mortal life and death. You are hereby ordered by Shinigami society authorities to relinquish your scythe and surrender." 

His companions portaled in around him just as he finished speaking, and Ronald came immediately to his side. Some of the color had drained from William's face with the realization of who he was about to face and what it would mean for the Undertaker if they took him. 

"Wait," called Ciel, but Sebastian picked him up bodily and carried him out of the room, ignoring his protests. 

"If you resist," announced William, leveling his scythe at him, "we have been authorized to use deadly force." 

* * *

 

Undertaker stared at the pruning pole scythe, knowing that it could extend to shocking distances in the blink of a mortal eye. It's owner looked a bit pale, however. In fact, there was emotion behind those determined eyes, and he saw the silent plea in them. He knew that Spears admired him for his past history with the organization, and he knew how hard it must be for him to put duty before personal feelings. 

Even under these odds, the Undertaker couldn't resist toying with his adversaries. He lifted his scythe, displaying the formidable, classic weapon in a warning manner. The other reapers backed up a bit, grasping their own scythes warily. 

"When they tell you to jump," announced Undertaker with a wild, broad grin, "you lot ask how high. I used to be just like you." 

"Undertaker!" 

Distracted by the sound of Ciel calling his name again, Undertaker turned to see the boy standing in the archway to the kitchen, with his butler at his side. The boy parted his lips to say something else, but he faltered, unable to speak the apology in his muted gaze. Ciel Phantomhive wasn't the sort to suffer guilt, doubt or sentiment easily, so it touched the ancient reaper to witness that little reveal. 

Undertaker's smile softened for him, and he kept his scythe defensively raised with one hand, while reaching down with the other to unfasten his chain belt again. "It seems you'll be taking care of this for a bit longer, little lord." Undertaker tossed it through the air, over the heads of Eric and Alan. Sebastian caught it, his ruby gaze curious on Undertaker. 

"Now," said the retired Shinigami, "Get him out of here, butler." 

* * *

 

_~No.~  
_

But saying it in his head did not stop it from happening. Despite being utterly surrounded, the Undertaker swung his scythe in a deadly arc, the blade making a hair-raising _whoosh_ sound as it cut through the air toward him and his two companions. 

William reacted immediately, shoving Ronald to the floor before ducking himself. He heard Grell shout in a way that sounded as gleeful as alarmed, and then the walls behind him were sliced horizontally, all the way through. Had he been still standing, his head would have probably been severed from his shoulders, and the top of Ronald's skull would have been lopped off. Grell was short enough even in heels to have survived with only a buzz-cut to show for it, but that would have been upsetting enough, for the likes of him. 

"Holy shit!" Ronald blurted, seemingly surprised even though he'd already faced down Undertaker aboard the Campania. 

William heard something overhead snap as Undertaker hopped onto the dining table and spun in a circle, letting the crescent blade of his scythe sing through the air. He heard Alan shout a warning to Eric, and then the chandelier overhead crashed down. The crystals shattered upon impact, and Thomas yelled as the spray of shards cracked his glasses and peppered his face. Eric grabbed him and yanked him to the floor, while Alan and Grell attacked from two different sides, leaping onto the table with their scythes leading the way. 

Alan was quickly pinned to the wall by a hurled grave marker that pierced his shoulder, and Grell got tripped. Undertaker started to lower his scythe to the redhead once he was on his back at his feet, but he stopped at the last minute, reversed the strike and hit Eric in the stomach with the blunt side of his weapon, instead. Slingby crashed into the cabinet in the far corner of the room, shattering precious china and getting flattened by the cabinet itself, as it fell over him. 

William got to his feet, ignoring the groaning sound above him. He extended his scythe and he pressed his lips together grimly as the blades at the end of it pierced Undertaker's chest, just beside his right shoulder. The fugitive staggered and peered at him through wild locks of silver hair, his eyes flashing. 

"Don't force the issue further," urged William, getting to his feet. Ronald circled around the table and nodded at him, ready to strike but awaiting his order. 

"Ah, but I can't help myself," Undertaker said with a grin. "You see, I—" 

Unfortunately for him, Grell's fallen chainsaw was spinning around in circles on the floor, still running. The blade just happened to hit the far right leg of the table that Undertaker was standing on, and it cut right through it. The leg snapped, the table abruptly buckled, and Undertaker went down with it—falling right on top of Grell. 

The redhead cried out again, sounding inappropriately delighted as the legendary reaper's body crashed down on top of his, in a blur of silver hair and black garments. The table fell over completely and both of them were fortunate that William put a firm foot down on the blade of the chainsaw to stop it from cutting into them, as well. 

"Quickly," urged William to his associates. 

Ronald was the first to reach Undertaker, and he started to cuff him with the special restraints designed by the organization to hold Shinigami. He got kicked in the face for his troubles, and Grell shouted a protest as Undertaker rolled onto his hair in the process of kicking Ron away. William leaped over the ruin of the table and extended his scythe again, before the Undertaker could get back to his feet and reach for his weapon. 

Undertaker stopped when the sharp blades of William's scythe pressed against either side of his throat, directly over the scar encircling the pale flesh. He looked up at the dispatch supervisor as the blades drew a trickle of blood, and he stopped moving. He began to grin like a fiend, watching the brunet through his long bangs as he spread his hands to either side in surrender. 

"Couldn't make it too easy on you, could I?" 

William fought against a sudden urge to cry. He shoved his personal feelings aside and he kept his gaze fixated on the dangerous funeral director. "Ronald, finish. By the authority of Shinigami Dispatch, I hereby place you under arrest, Undertaker. You will be relieved of your scythe and confined, where you will await trial for your crimes. Do you understand these charges?" 

Undertaker allowed Ronald to secure his wrists behind him with the glowing white spirit cuffs, and he obligingly took his knee off of Grell's hair when the redhead tried to rise and complained. He gave Spears a reckless grin, and he nodded—incidentally drawing more blood. 

"I think you've made it clear. Your masters will be pleased." 

* * *

 

He hadn't expected to escape, and he really hadn't been interested in killing anyone. All in all, he still considered himself to be a neutral force, neither for or against his old associates, demons or angels. After recovering from the struggle, his captors took him to Shinigami headquarters. Undertaker felt somewhat comforted in the knowledge that his belt of treasures would be looked after by Ciel, until he could reclaim it once more. 

"Funny how things work out," muttered the funeral director, shuffling along with his armed escort. 

"What do you mean?" Grell asked. "If you're going to mumble, at least try to make some sense." 

Undertaker smirked. "Don't mind me." 

He saw people out the corners of his eyes; reapers young and old, coming and going to and from work and training. They were all a blur, since he didn't rely on glasses like his fellow Shinigami. Many of them stopped and stared at the ragged company, and Undertaker heard his name murmured on the lips of some. The dimension in which the Shinigami lived was an entirely different world from the mortal realm they operated on, and it was far more advanced. It had been so many years since Undertaker had been there, beyond the rare visits to the library. The metropolis had changed so much, already. 

But one thing was still the same, and its irony wasn't lost on Undertaker as he passed through the front doors of the tallest building and into the massive lobby. He looked up at the massive statue of himself, standing in the middle of the fountain in the center of the lobby. 

Undertaker began to cackle, and the volume of his laughter steadily increased as his escorts took him past the monument of himself. 

* * *

 

-The End (story continues in "Flowers for the Dead")      


End file.
